MY  MEMOIRS 


PRINCESS 

CAROLINE  MURAT 


'J&f^-^n-r'JWf*,,         ***»«>€> 


Jfo  in  I  r  r. 


LIBRARY 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 

PRES1  N  I  ID  lO 
Mrs.    MacKinley   Helm 


ill 


MY    MEMOIRS 


■  /■/////■,.).>    ''</■/<■/?/'<•    fff/}<//. 


MY    MEMOIRS 


THE    PRINCESS    CAROLINE    MURAT 


NliW    YORK 

(..    P.    PUTNAM'S   SONS 
1910 


Richard  Clay  &  Sons,  Limited, 

bread  street  hill,  e.c.,  and 

bungay,  suffolk. 


INTRODUCTION 

Amid  the  throng  of  Memoirs  of  the  Second 
Empire  there  would  appear  to  be  little  room  for 
yet  another  to  find  place.     Every   phase  of  the 

period,  both  personal  and  political,  has  already 
been  so  fully  discussed  and  dealt  with,  that  there 
remain  few  events,  and  fewer  anecdotes,  that  have 
not  been  garnered  into  the  literary  granari) 
But  1  judge  that  the  present  volume  offers  especial 
claims  to  attention  in  the  circumstance  that  it  is 
the  autobiography  of  an  actual  member  of  the 
Imperial  family,  who  lived  and  moved  among 
the  activities  and  gaieties  of  the  Court  ol 
Napoleon  III,  and  who  enjoyed  unexampled 
opportunities    of  observation    at    first    hand. 

Princess  Caroline  had  not  thought  of  writing 
her  memoirs  until  I  suggested  to  her  that  her 
intimate  souvenirs  would  be  interesting  to  English 
readers.  We  were  sitting  together  at  her  fireside- 
one  winter  evening.  She  was  in  a  reminiscent 
mood.  She  spoke  of  her  childhood  in  Amerii 
ot  her  girlish  joy  when,  the  ban  of  exile  being 
removed  by  the  fall  of  Louis  Philippe,  her  family 
were  permitted  to  return  to  France.     She  gave 


INTRODUCTION 

me  her  first  impressions  of  Paris — so  different 
from  the  Paris  of  which  she  had  dreamed — of 
Louis  Napoleon,  of  the  Duke  de  Morny  ;  and 
told  many  stories  of  the  habitues  of  the  Court 
at  the  Tuileries,  Compiegne,  and  Fontainebleau. 
Her  personal  recollections  of  the  salon  of  her 
aunt  Princess  Mathilde,  and  of  the  men  and 
women  of  letters  and  art  with  whom  she  had  daily 
associated  at  the  Rue  de  Courcelles,  were  especially 
interesting  to  me.  She  spoke  of  the  audacities  of 
Princess  de  Metternich,  the  extravagances  of 
Countess  de  Castiglione.  She  discussed  the 
mysterious  murder  of  her  handsome  young  rela- 
tive Count  Camerata,  expressed  her  candid 
opinion  of  the  Empress  Eugenie,  vividly  recalled 
the  disasters  of  the  war,  the  flight  from  Paris,  her 
years  of  exile  in  England,  and  dwelt  with  a  note 
of  sadness  on  the  death  of  the  Emperor,  and  the 
sacrifice  of  Imperial  hopes  in  the  tragic  fate  of  the 
Prince  Imperial. 

"  Princess,"  I  said,  "  you  ought  really  to  write 
your  memoirs." 

The  suggestion  surprised  her.  It  had  never 
occurred  to  her  that  she  possessed  information 
which  had  not  already  been  made  public  by  the 
scores  of  irresponsible  gossips  who  had  been  pry- 
ing into  the  secrets  of  the  Court  and  mingling 
their  imperfectly  ascertained  facts  with  clumsily 
invented  fictions.  She  objected  that  she  had  had 
no  literary  training,  that  she  had  kept  no  diary, 
no  notes,  that  she  could  not  pretend  to  a  know- 
vi 


INTRODUCTION 

ledge   of  politics.     All  that  she  could  do  would 

■  to  set  down   her  personal  souvenirs,  perha 

very  crudely,  and  in   exceedingly  ungrammatical 

English.     The  attempt  would  at  least  afford  her 

an  a  ble  occupation  in  the  seclusion  of   her 

intry  home  in  Suffolk. 

In  the  spring  of  [902,  the  Princess  was 
engaged  upon  the  work.  She  wrote  tome  occa- 
sionally to  supply  a  date,  a  forgotten  name,  or  to 
ask  advice  She  had  no  access  to  books  or 
documentary  records  by  which  to  verity  her 
recollections.  In  July  of  the  same  year,  she 
invited  me  to  Redisham  to  review  the  results  of 
her  literary  labours.  My  visit  was  interrupted  by 
her  illness.  She  took  to  her  bed  on  the  13th 
of  the  month.  She  always  had  a  superstitious 
•  r  of  the  number  13.  In  this,  as  in  so  many 
instance's  connected  with  her  family,  there  was 
a  fatal  association.  After  a  ten  days'  illne 
Princess  Caroline  passed  away  on  the  23rd  ot 
Jul)',    1902. 

These  .Memoirs  now  appear  in  the  condition  in 
which  their  author  left  them,  unembellished  and 
fragmentary.  W.id  Princess  Caroline  lived  to 
fulfil  her  intentions,  she  would  have  expanded 
and  elaborated  certain  sections  of  the  book.  I  am 
not  sure  that  she  would  not  have  re  written  it 
entirely.  She  particularly  wished  to  revise  the 
chapter  referring  to  the  literary  receptions  at  the 
Rue  de  Courcelles,  and  one  would  have  been  glad 

to    have   the   fuller  details   which   she  could   have 

vii 


INTRODUCTION 

given.  Apart  from  the  hostess  herself,  no  one 
was  better  equipped  than  Princess  Caroline  to 
write  an  account  of  that  incomparable  assemblage 
of  all  that  was  best  and  brightest  in  the  intellect  of 
the  Second  Empire. 

It  is  probable  that  had  the  Princess  lived  to  see 
her  work  in  the  printer's  proofs,  she  would  have 
omitted,  or  at  least  softened,  many  comments  and 
criticisms  on  eminent  persons  which  in  the  rush  of 
spontaneous  writing  she  had  set  down.  Some  of 
them  appear  unduly  harsh  and  even  a  little  unkind. 
One  can  understand,  and  perhaps  condone,  her 
prejudices  against  England  and  the  English.  She 
was  aware  that  they  had  little  justification,  and 
that  her  insistence  upon  the  point  was  un- 
necessary. But  she  had  the  courage  of  her 
opinions  regarding  individuals,  and  bitter  though 
her  statements  concerning  the  Empress  Eugenie 
sometimes  are,  I  doubt  if  she  would  willingly  have 
withdrawn  or  qualified  any  of  them. 

In  preparing  her  manuscript  for  the  press,  I 
have  taken  no  liberties  beyond  making  a  few 
literal  corrections  and  adding  some  translations 
from  her  own  notes.  I  believe  Princess  Caroline 
wished  me  to  do  more  than  this  ;  but  to  alter  her 
phrasing  or  smooth  down  her  convictions  would 
have  been  to  rob  the  book  of  its  character  as  an 
autobiography,  and  I  have  preferred  to  leave  it 
as  it  is. 

Robert    Leighton. 

London,  19 10. 
viii 


fAut 


CONTENTS 

I  HAPTER    I 

AN  . 

on    Murat,    Ki:  N  -His  marriage  with 

I  I  lis  milr  irj   i    reer  and  • 

nal  charact  •  poleon's  opinion  of  him,   "The 

bravest  man  in  the  world  " — G  <    idoudal — 

Mur.tt  ami  Fouchd     The  Battle  of  Tolentino — My 
father  —  Execution  of  the  King  of  Nap 


CHAPTER    11 

IMPERIAL    EXILES    IN    THE    UNIT]  .  TES 

My  birth  and  childhood  in  Bordentown — Point  Breeze 
—  King  Joseph  Prince  Joseph-  1  I  apartes 
deficient  in  the  musical  sense — The  d'Argaiz  — 
neral  Bertrand — Billy  Vanderbilt — Edwin  Stevens 
— A  Peach  Dance— Hamilton  Beckett — A  Brok 
Engagement — "Aunt  Becky"— Fanny  Kemble — 
Mr.  Townsend — The  Connover  Girls — Charlie 
Wentworth  and  his  romantic  story         .         .         .       24 


CHAPTER    111 
THl     :  N    OF    1848    AND    IHK    PRESIDENT 

Downfall  of  Louis  Philippe— Our  Removal  to  France — 
Voyage    to    Havre—  from    Fire     My    lust 

Impressions  of  Paris — Prince  Louis  Napoleon  -  11 

ix 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

candidature  as  President  of  the  Republic — My  first 
meeting  with  him — His  personal  character — The 
Pavilion  de  Breteuil— The  Princess  Mathilde— The 
Chateau  de  St.  Gratien— The  Prince  and  Princess 
de  Wagram— Nicolas  Clary's  foot— A  Recollection 
of  1870 48 


CHAPTER  IV 

NOTRE   DAME   DES   ARTS 

Princess  Mathilde — My  father  is  sent  as  Ambassador  to 
Italy — I  take  lessons  from  Giraud — Receptions  at 
the  Rue  de  Courcelles — Prince  Demidoff— The 
Princess  and  her  friends — Madame  de  Solms        .       67 


CHAPTER  V 

THE   COUP   D'ETAT 

Receptions  at  the  Elyse'e— Mrs.  Ridgeway's  soirees 
dansantes — Madame  Musard — I  excel  in  dancing, 
and  dance  myself  into  an  engagement  with  M.  de 
Chassiron— The  difficulty  of  getting  married— My 
honeymoon — The  Orleanist  set — A  bridegroom  in 
a  fix— The  Imperial  family— A  duel  by  cards— The 
Coup  d'£tat— My  adventure  at  the  Elysee  Palace   .       84 


CHAPTER  VI 

RESTORATION   OF   THE   EMPIRE 

The  Imperial  Eagles— The  Prince-President's  tour  of  the 
Provinces — His  speech  at  Bordeaux — Miss  Howard 
couples  my  name  with  that  of  the  future  Emperor — 
The  Prince  honours  me  with  a  visit  to  Beauregard 
— Restoration  of  the  Empire— Matrimonial  negoti- 
ations—Mademoiselle de  Montijo — The  Emperor's 
speech  announcing  his  betrothal — The  Empress 
Eugenie— Des  Pierettes— Visit  of  Queen  Victoria- 
English  beauties  at  Compiegne— Birth  of  the  Prince 
Imperial— The  Prince  of  Orange  and  the  Mabille 


CONTENTS 

<       dens — A  Death  of  the   Prince  of 


CHAPTER    VII 

IH.  •:    . 

Imont  and  the  mar- 
rial  Clotild  Napol  n  — 
Ch  III  I  his  wit — 
Family  dinners  and  Sunday  even  t  the 
Tuileries     1 1                                               when   tl 

i  A  Shi 

Tu         .  Perilous  gym- 

nastics    and      inconvenient      crinolines     M  i 

delli-  I    .  I     and      his      family — Madame 

II::         leg     ;.      General  I  -His  duel  with 

Prince  Achilli       i       notoi  Rocheforl      Ma  lai 

I  ralliffet — The  Dinner  of  the   Twenty  1 
Prii  M      ernich—  A     Lenten     Ball     The 

Comti  I  I        Ballet  of  th  s— 

ants — The     Emperor's     escape     fro 
nation  •  dal — The  shadow  of 

tragedy — The   mysterioi  i    and 

its  I  -The    Court    at    Biarritz — 1    tt  rs    from 

Pri:  Anna    -Her  marriage  with    the   Duke  de 

Mouchy  .         .         .  .         .         .         .126 


CHAPTER    VIII 

TH]  RUSSIAN    WAR 

Death    of  my    uncle,    JeYdn  naparte     "The    sou 

between  two  N  The  1  *ul  Vforny 

M.    de    Persignj      1  onfli  tin      influences    oi    the 

ipress   Eugenie   and  the   Prince   Napoleon     111- 

the    I  mp  ror — The    Duke  of  Gramont's 

loyalty  to  him  itii  in  of  War     Action  of 

I  in;'!  I  he  Prini      N  pularity 

—  I  nt     Metternich  and  Nigra 

— Disastrous   pi  of  the   1  The    Regent's 

nr.      I  rcacher)  1 1   Troc hu     Se dan 

xi 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

— Our  flight  from  Paris — Flight  of  the  Empress 
Eugenie — "  Such  a  nice  man  !  " — Her  arrival  in 
England i74 


CHAPTER    IX 

EXILES    IN    ENGLAND 

Camden  Place,  Chislehurst  —  Miss  Howard  —  The 
Emperor  a  prisoner  of  war — The  Prussians  in 
possession — Prince  Leopold  v.  Hohenzollern — 
Buzenval — Monseigneur  Bauer — Paris  in  London — 
The  Princess  Mathilde — The  Empress's  suite  at 
Chislehurst — The  price  of  a  horse — The  Empress 
visits  the  prisoner  at  Wilhelmshohe — General  Bour- 
baki — Marshal  Bazaine's  plan  to  place  the  Prince 
Imperial  on  the  throne  rejected  by  the  Empress — 
Her  policy  discussed — A  winter  shooting  party — 
"Brab"  and  others — Lord  Granville's  solicitude — 
The  ex-Emperor's  release  and  retreat  to  England 
— Mr.  Gladstone — A  railway  adventure — Princess 
Metternich 210 


CHAPTER   X 

DEATH   OF   NAPOLEON    III 

A  trip  to  Italy — My  second  marriage — Redisham — 
Return  to  Paris — Effects  of  siege  and  Commune— 
The  Cote  d'Azur— The  Emperor's  illness — His 
death — Sir  William  Gull's  opinion— Mme.  Rouher's 
experiment — Palmistry 249 

CHAPTER  XI 

THE     EX-EMPRESS 

The  Emperor's  will— The  Prince  Imperial—"  Papa,  she's 
pinching  me  !  " — Daniel  Home — Coming-of-age  of 
the  Prince  Imperial — The  box  of  chocolates — An 
enterprising  princess — Anecdote  of  the  Empress  of 
Austria — Lord  and  Lady  Stradbroke       .         .         .270 

xii 


CONTENTS 

I   MAPI  ER    XII 

1HE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 


I  am  rebuffed  by  tl  Prince  Imperial  at 

i  The  <  •  Spiritualism— Death  of 

rm  I  he  ami  ualities 

:  ! —  Hei   superstitions— The 

Zulu  v.  operial  volunti  ers     G<  neral 

ury      I  he  Prii  rhe  question  of 

his  will      1 1 :      ast  night  in  '1        late  ! " 

Zizi    d'Arcos — "  The 
ir  W  ki  Funeral  of  the  Prince  Imperial — 

rid  Prin  i1  -Incidents  in 

the  II  •■  Je  sui  •  Louis  Quat  n 

Index ••        34' 


XII 1 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS 


THE   PRINCESS    CAROLINE    MURAT 


Facing  page 

Frontispiece 


THE    MURAT    HOUSE,    BORDENTOWN,    NEW   JERSEY    . 
(From  a  painting  by  Princess  Caroline) 


PRINCE    MURAT 


PRINCESS    MATHILDE 

(From  an  original  painting  by  Giraud) 

PRINCESS    CAROLINE    IN    1 85 1 

(From  a  painting  by  Benedict  Mason) 

THE   EMPRESS    EUGENIE 

(From  a  painting  by  P.  de  Pommaigron) 

ANNA  MURAT,  DUCHESS  DE  MOUCHY 

LE  DUC  DE  MORNY    ...  .     . 

THE    EMPEROR    NAPOLEON    III  ... 

(From  a  photograph  by   W.  and  D.   Downey) 

PRINCESS   CAROLINE 

LETTER    FROM    NAPOLEON    III    TO   PRINCESS   CAROLINE 

REDISHAM    HALL,    SUFFOLK      ..... 

THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

(From  a  photograph  by  Bassano) 

THE    EX-EMPRESS   EUGENIE      ..... 

(Profit  a  photograph  taken  in  Paris,   1906) 
xiv 


26 

48 
70 

88 

108 

164 
180 
210 

249 

255 
280 

296 
326 


MY    MEMOIRS 

CHAPTER    I 

Joachim  Murat,  King  of  Naples— His  man  :h  Caroline 

Bonaparte     His  military  career  and  personal  character — 
N .'.-■■  •pinion   of   him,    "The    bravest    man    in    the 

world"—1  loudal — Murat    and     Fouchd — The 

Battle  of  Tolentino — My  father — Execution  of   the  King 
ol   Naples 

Small  I  write  my  memoirs?  Many  times  has 
this  question  arisen  in  my  mind.  I  have  hesi- 
tated for  two  reasons.  First,  I  have  never 
studied  the  English  language.  All  the  teaching 
I  ever  had,  ended  with  my  nursery  days. 
Secondly,  I  fear  I  might  fail  to  make  my  life, 
eventful  though  it  has  been,  sufficiently  interest- 
ing to  attract  and  captivate  the  attention  of  my 
ders.  Nevertheless,  1  have  decided  to  make 
a  venture. 

It  is  a  matter  of  history  that  in  the  revolution 
of  the  [8th  Brumaire,  (oachim  Murat  took  a 
leading  part  and  stood  by  Napoleon  in  that  crisis 
of   his    life    when,    entering    the  Council   of  the 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Five  Hundred  at  St.  Cloud,  he  was  received 
with  the  cry  "  Down  with  the  tyrant."  Murat's 
answer  was,  "  Charge! — Bayonets!"  and  the 
battalion  of  soldiers  under  him,  with  firm  step 
and  levelled  pieces,  marched  into  the  hall  and 
dissolved  the  Assembly.  Not  long  afterwards, 
Murat  being  at  the  time  thirty-three  years  old, 
the  Emperor  gave  him  his  youngest  sister, 
Caroline  Bonaparte,  in  marriage.  A  fortnight 
after  his  marriage  he  accompanied  Napoleon 
across  the  St.  Bernard  into  Italy.  At  Marengo 
he  commanded  the  cavalry.  The  Emperor 
later  lavished  favours  on  his  favourite  brother- 
in-law,  who  became  Grand  Admiral,  Prince  of 
the  Empire,  Grand  Duke  de  Berg  and  Cleves, 
and  finally  King  of  Naples. 

I  have  read  that  my  grandfather's  three 
distinguishing  characteristics  were  high  chivalric 
courage,  great  skill  as  a  general,  and  almost 
unparalleled  coolness  in  the  hour  of  peril.  His 
form  was  tall,  his  tread  like  that  of  a  king,  his 
face  strikingly  noble,  while  his  piercing  glance 
few  men  could  bear.  He  had  heavy  black 
whiskers  and  long  black  locks,  which  contrasted 
singularly  with  his  fiery  blue  eyes.  He  usually 
wore  a  three-cornered  hat,  with  a  magnificent 
white  plume  of  ostrich  feathers.  This  plume, 
with  many  other  relics,  is  now  in  the  possession 
of  my  eldest  brother,   Prince  Murat. 

My  grandfather's  dazzling  exterior  made  him 
16 


ANTECEDENTS 

a  mark  for  the  enemy's  bullet  The  wonder  is 
that,  being  so  conspicuous,  he  was  never  shot 
down  and  was  rarely  wounded.  At  one  battle  a 
bullet  grazed  his  cheek.  Like  lightning  his  sword 
punished  the  offender  by  carrying  away  two  of 
his  fingers.  I  have  read  that  at  the  battle  of 
Aboukir  he  charged  with  his  cavalry  straight 
through  the  Turkish  ranks,  driving  column  after 
column  into  the  sea. 

The  affection  of  a  single  man  could  conquer 
him  whom  the  enemy  seemed  unable  to  over- 
come. His  own  life  was  nothing,  but  the  life  of 
a  friend  w.is  surpassingly  dear  to  him.  At  one 
time  during  the  Russian  campaign  he  stood  calmly 
waiting  the  ball  that  might  shatter  him,  when, 
casting  his  eye  round,  he  saw  General  Belliard 
still  by  his  side,  notwithstanding  he  had  ordered 
his  guard  to  leave  him.  The  King  asked  the 
general  why  he  did  not  withdraw.  "  Every  man 
is  master  of  his  own  lite,"  was  the  reply,  "and  as 
your  Majesty  seems  determined  to  dispose  of 
yours,  I  must  stand  or  fall  beside  you."  The 
generous  heart  of  the  King  was  touched  by  the 
love  and  fidelity  of  the  brave  general.  Turning 
his  horse,  he  galloped  out  of  the  tire.  Idle  King's 
determination  to  remain  arose  from  a  dispute 
between  the  Emperor  and  himself,  Napoleon 
being  vexed  at  the  opinion  boldly  expressed  by 
Mnrat  that  a  march  to  Moscow  would  be  the 
destruction  of  the  army. 

i;  "7 


MY   MEMOIRS 

There  was  a  striking  contrast  between  the 
Emperor  Napoleon  and  his  brother-in-law,  King 
Joachim  of  Naples,  as  they  rode  side  by  side 
along  the  lines  before  a  battle.  The  Emperor, 
with  his  short  square  figure,  his  plain  three- 
cornered  hat,  leather  breeches,  and  the  ever 
famous  redingote  grise,  was  certainly  a  counter- 
foil to  the  tall  imposing  figure  and  magnificent 
array  of  the  King,  whose  towering  white  plume 
was  seen  leading  the  way  for  the  thousands  that 
struggled  behind  him.  The  Emperor  once  said, 
"  Murat  is  the  bravest  man  in  the  world,"  and 
many  times  he  was  seen  to  watch  the  white  plume 
as  it  charged  like  a  beam  of  light,  as  though  the 
plume  were  the  star  of  his  destiny. 

I  remember  hearing  that  at  some  battle, 
perhaps  Aboukir,  when  watching  thus,  the 
Emperor  saw  Murat  in  the  hottest  of  the  fight : 
he  was  almost  alone  in  the  centre  of  the  Turkish 
cavalry  for  a  while.  The  battle  thickened  where 
the  white  plume  stooped  and  rose  as  the  charger 
reared  and  plunged  amid  the  sabre  strokes  that 
fell  on  every  side.  Then  a  single  rider  burst 
from  the  crowd,  his  sword  red  and  dripping  to 
the  hilt.  His  steed,  staggering  under  him,  seemed 
ready  to  fall,  but  he,  with  a  shout  which  those 
around  him  never  forgot  to  their  last  day,  turned 
his  horse  on  the  foe,  and,  followed  by  a  body  of 
his  own  cavalry,  trampled  down  all  that  stopped 
his  way. 
18 


ANTECEDENTS 

In    1807,    in    mid-winter   and    in    a    piercing 

torm,    perhaps    the    most    important,    and 

rtainly    the    most    bloody  battle   was   fought,    I 

mean  the  battle  of  1  ydau.  During  this  strange 
fight,  seeing  a  knot  of   R  Idiers  who  for 

me  tin  I  kept  up  a  fi<  1  n   his  men, 

Murat  galloped  his  horse  towards  their  level' 
muskets.  A  few  of  his  guards  followed.  Without 
waiting  to  count  his  toes,  he  seized  the  bridle  in 
his  teeth,  and  with  a  pistol  in  one  hand  and  his 
drawn  s\v<>rd  in  the  other  hurst  in  headlong  fury 
on  them  and  cleared  the  way  as  if  swept  by  a 
hurricane. 

My    grandfather    loved    the     Emperor    with 
supreme  devotion.     The  treaty  of  Austria  caused 

:ir  first,  I  may  say  their  only,  estrangement,  and 
this  was   tl.  ison   of  the    King's  absence   from 

Waterloo.  It  was  during  the  heat  of  that  battle 
that  the  Emperor  exclaimed,  "Ah!  had  1  my 
faithful     Murat    with    me,    the    day    would    not    be 

t!" 
I  must  relate  two  anecdotes  which  my  -rand- 
mother  was  wont  to  tell.  One  relates  to  the  sad 
event  of  the  death  of  the  Due  d'Enghien  the 
one  stain,  to  my  mind,  on  the  glorious  career  of 
the  greatest  military  genius  th  er   lived.      It 

was  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  General 
M  onald,  coming  into  the  room  0  King 
Joachim,  told  him  the   hue  d'Enghien   had  been 

retly   put  to  death   in  his   prison.      My  grand- 

1  w 


MY   MEMOIRS 

father  jumped  from  his  bed  in  a  passion  of  pain 
and  anger,  and  seizing  a  valuable  Sevres  vase  on 
his  table  threw  it  violently  to  the  floor,  saying, 
"  Tis  treachery  !  I  had  the  Emperor's  word." 

The  second  anecdote  is  this :  in  1804  Georges 
Cadoudal,  one  of  the  chiefs  of  Vendee,  took  a 
leading  part  with  Pichegru  in  the  plot,  called  the 
plot  of  the  Infernal  Machine,  directed  against  the 
First  Consul.  Later  on,  when  the  Emperor 
offered  Cadoudal  his  pardon,  he  refused  to  accept 
the  token  of  clemency  unless  all  those  incrimin- 
ated with  him  who  acted  under  his  orders  were 
pardoned  also.  King  Joachim  happened  to  be 
present  when  Fouche,  the  Secretary  of  Police, 
communicated  the  decision  of  Cadoudal  to  the 
Emperor.  Napoleon,  turning  to  my  grandfather, 
said,  "What  is  your  opinion?"  "My  advice, 
sire,"  returned  Murat,  "  is,  pardon  all  the  band  of 
brigands.  Those  Bretons  will  make  splendid 
grenadiers.  I  will  take  Cadoudal  for  my  aide-de- 
camp." The  Emperor  made  no  answer,  but 
Fouch6  interposed,  bringing  forward  some  strong 
arguments  that  carried  the  day.  The  Emperor 
listened  in  silence,  then,  after  some  moments  of 
deep  thought,  said  hurriedly,  "  You  are  right, 
Fouche\  Let  justice  have  its  course."  Murat 
turned  to  Fouche,  who  could  not  repress  a  look 
of  triumph,  and  casting  at  him  the  one  word 
"  Viper  !  "  thundered  out  of  the  room,  not  choosing 
to  see  or  return  Fouche^s  obsequious  bow. 
20 


ANTECEDENTS 

The  King  of  Naples  lost  the  battle  of  Tolen- 
tino,  May  2,  [815.  He  gave  up  the  command 
of  his  troops  and  retreated  to  Naples,  arriving 
thereon  May  [8,  late  in  the  evenin  11 
cheered  by  his  people,  as  if  he  had  returned 
victorious  at  the  head  of  his  army  instead  ol  a 
heart-broken  monarch  returning  to  bid  adieu  to 
Naples,  his  wife  and  children,  and  fly  for  his  life. 
ddie  Queen,  who  had  used  every  persuasion  to 
prevent  this  war  with  Austria,  feeling  a  secret 
presentiment  of  evil,  was  lull  ol  reproaches  and 
anger.  So  unkind  were  her  words  of  greeting 
that  the  unhappy  King  exclaimed,  "  If  you  see 
me  alive,  madam,  pray  believe  it  is  that  I  have 
sought   death    in  vain  !  " 

This  was  their  last  interview.  In  the  middle 
of  the  night  King  Joachim  left  the  palace  secretly, 
accompanied  by  a  few  faithful  friends.  Thus,  on 
horseback,  with  a  small  escort,  he  left  his  king- 
dom for  ever,  determined  to  join  the  Emperor 
Napoleon  and  offer  his  sword  and  his  services 
once  again  to  light  for  France,  remembering 
alas  !  too  late  that  he  was  a   Frenchman. 

The  Kin.;  carried  a  large  amount  of  money 
and  a  quantity  of  very  valuable  diamonds.  These 
were  sewn  in  the  lining  of  his  waistcoat  and  in  a 
wide  belt  he  wore.  At  a  small  place — I  cannot 
remember  the  name— boats  belonging  to  lisher- 
men  were  hired,  and  the  King  and  his  party 
gained  Ischia,  and  accepted  for  a  night  or  two  the 

1 1 


MY  MEMOIRS 

hospitality  of  a  French  merchant.  Later  on  they 
took  refuge  on  board  the  Santa  Caterina,  and 
landed  at  Cannes  at  the  end  of  May. 

It  was  from  this  place  that  the  King  sent  a 
messenger  with  letters  to  the  Emperor — who 
declined  his  services,  saying  that  under  existing 
circumstances  it  would  be  most  imprudent  to 
allow  him  to  join  the  army,  that  he  must  wait 
and  hope  for  better  times. 

It  was  also  at  Cannes  that  the  news  of  the 
flight  of  the  Queen  reached  King  Joachim.  His 
grief  was  increased  by  the  fact  that,  putting  her- 
self and  her  children  under  the  protection  of  the 
Austrians,  she  was  escorted  to  Trieste  under  the 
Austrian  flag,  there  to  await  the  decision  of  King 
Ferdinand  as  to  her  future  destination. 

My  father,  Napoleon  Lucien  Charles  Murat, 
was  then  eleven  years  old,  having  been  born  at 
Milan,  May  16,  1803.  He  bore  the  title  of 
Prince  de  Ponte  Corvo.  Often  during  my  child- 
hood his  recollections  led  him  back  to  thgse  early 
years,  and  his  voyage  to  Trieste  on  board  the 
Tremendous. 

The  Due  d'Enghien  was  shot  in  the  castle 
moat  outside  Vincennes,  on  the  31st  of  March, 
1804.  Many  years  later  a  similar  fate  awaited 
my  grandfather,  who  was  taken  prisoner  at 
Pizzo.  Beaten  at  Tolentino,  he  lost  in  one  day 
both    his   army   and    his   throne.      He    fled    to 

Corsica  and  thence  to  Pizzo,  where,  through  the 

22 


ANIIU  EDENTS 

ichery  ol  captain,  he  was  captured.    The 

order  came  from   Naples  that  he  was  to  be  court 
martialled  on  th'  I  I  .1,  one  colonel, 

two  lieutenant-colonels,  and  two  captains  com- 
posed  the  commission  chosen  to  judge  a  hero 
and  a  King.  1  1  •  refused  to  accept,  or  appear 
before,  such  a  tribunal,  and  was  therefore  con- 
demned without  ice.  On  being  asked  if  he 
had  any  request  to  make,  he  said  he  wished  to 
have  a  hath  prepared  for  him  and  perfumed  with 
a  i  i  de-Cologne,  and,  as  a  last  request, 
that  his  eyes  should  not  be  bandaged.  Both 
wishes  v  granted,  and,  by  order  sent  by  King 
I  erdinand,    twelve    of    his    own    soldiers    w<  i 

!ected  to  shoot  him.  When  the  fatal  hour 
came,  seeing  the  emotion  of  his  men,  Murat 
said,  "  My  friends,  if  you  wish  to  spare  me,  aim 
at  my  heart."  These  were  his  hist  words.  It 
was  the  rjth  of  October,    1815. 

Little  wonder  that  the  old  superstition  against 

the  number  13   should  be   intensified  with  us,  and 

it   is   strange   that    the   letter  M  is  the   1 3 L h   letter 

of  the   alphabet.      My  mother  was  born  and  my 

her  w.is  buried  on  the   13th  day  oi~  the  month. 

I  have  told  y<»u  my  family  traditions:  legends 
ot  L;l<>ry  with  which  my  cradle  was  rocked,  my 
childhood    taught.      They     have    grown    up     and 

ah  old  with  me.  Yet  how  imperfect  they  all 
seem  to  picture  the  brave  soldier  ol  two  hundred 
battles  ! 

-3 


CHAPTER   II 

IMPERIAL    EXILES    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES 

My  birth  and  childhood  in  Bordentown — Point  Breeze — 
King  Joseph — Prince  Joseph — The  Bonapartes  deficient 
in  the  musical  sense — The  d'Argaiz — General  Bertrand 
— Billy  Vanderbilt — Edwin  Stevens — A  Peach  Dance — 
Hamilton  Beckett — A  Broken  Engagement — "Aunt  Becky" 
— Fanny  Kemble — Mr.  Townsend — The  Connover  Girls — 
Charlie  Wentworth  and  his  romantic  story 

My  father,  Prince  Napoleon  Lucien  Charles,  was 
in  exile  in  the  United  States,  and  so  it  happened 
that  I  was  born  in  America,  on  the  borders  of  the 
Delaware.  I  came  into  the  world  with  the  last 
sigh  of  the  old  year,  that  is  to  say  at  midnight  on 
the  31st  December,  1833.  Of  course  I  have  been 
told  I  was  a  most  wonderful  specimen  of  humanity. 
I  seemed  older  than  the  usual  run  of  babies.  My 
hair  being  quite  long,  of  a  bright  golden  colour, 
at  six  weeks  old,  it  was  held  back  from  my  eyes 
by  small  combs.  It  was  so  extraordinary  that  a 
lock  was  cut  and  preserved  by  my  mother  and 
presented  to  me  when  I  was  fifteen.  This  lock 
of  hair  I  still  have. 

I  have  said  that  my  father  was  in  exile.     When 
24 


EXILES  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 

h'-  was  eleven  \  old  his  mother  left   Naples 

with  her  four  children — two  girls  and  two  boj 
and  retired  to  the  Chateau  de  Frohsdorff,  taking 
the  tide-  oi    i  de    Lipona  —  Napoli  trans- 

posed.      I  my  father  lived  till  he  was  joined 

by    his    uncle,    the    Emperor    Napoleon's    eldest 
brother,    King    I  oi   Spain,  who  on  the  fall 

of   the    First    Empire    had    retired    to   the    United 
>  and  taken  a  lovel)  near  Bordentown, 

New  Jersey,  where  he  lived  for  eleven  years 
Count  de  Survilliers.  Joseph  Bonaparte  had  al- 
ready been  in  America  in  1 8oo,  having  been  chosen 
by  the  First  I  >ul  as  Plenipotentiary  to  the 
United  States.  Alter  Waterloo  he  accompanied 
Napoleon  to  Rochfort,  himself  taking  ship  to  New 
Jersey  and  becoming  an  American  citizen.  Hi- 
re turned  to  Europe  in  [832.  His  wife,  Marie 
Clary  (1777  1^45),  daughter  of  a  wealthy  citizen 
.Marseilles,  and  sister-in-law  of  Bernadotte, 
King  of  Sweden,  bore  him  two  daughters.  It 
was  at  Bordentown  that  I  entered  this  sorrv 
world,  my  father  having  in  1831  married  a  Miss 
Carolina  Georgina  Fraser,  of  Scotch  origin,  de- 
scending from  the  old  family  of  Lovat.  Her 
father  was  an  officer  in  the  British  Army  who, 
having  served  during  the  American  Revolution, 
married  a  young  Virginian  and  settled  in  South 
Carolina.  They  owned  very  extensive  plantations 
near  Charleston,  and  some  of  the  women  slaves, 
devoted   to   their   mistress,  were  given   to   her  i^n 

-5 


MY  MEMOIRS 

her  marriage  and  came  north  with  her ;  among 
them  a  dear  old  negress  called  Jeannette,  who 
was  deaf  and  dumb,  but  such  an  intelligent 
creature !  She  takes  a  place  among  my  earliest 
recollections.  She  taught  me  to  speak  by  signs 
almost  before  I  could  use  my  tongue.  Before  I 
was  four  years  old  I  could  read  both  French  and 
English — and  at  the  early  age  of  eight  I  can 
remember  reading  the  newly  published  Mysteres 
de  Paris  aloud  to  my  father  during  an  illness. 

My  grandmother  left  by  her  will  the  portion 
of  her  fortune  termed  by  French  law  part  disponible 
to  my  eldest  brother  ;  very  much  to  the  displeas- 
ure of  Prince  Achille  Murat,  her  elder  son,  who 
unfortunately  for  him  had  no  children.  Achille 
married  in  1826  a  Miss  Catherine  Bird  Willis, 
great-niece  of  George  Washington,  and  lived  in 
Tallahassee,  Florida,  where  he  acted  as  director 
of  posts.  Dying  in  1847,  ne  ^ft  no  ne^r  direct. 
He  took  his  revenge  of  the  Queen's  act  by  con- 
stituting Comte  Joachim  Murat,  son  of  a  cousin, 
sole  legatee  of  all  family  relics,  as  well  as  all  his 
share  of  claims  to  which  the  family  might  be 
entitled  from  the  government  of  Naples,  or 
from  large  properties  in  France  which  had  been 
confiscated  by  the  restoration. 

The  King  of  Naples  owned  the  Palace  of  the 
Elysee  (now  belonging  to  the  State  and  kept  as 
the  official  residence  of  the  President  of  the 
Republic),  the  Ecuries  d'Artois,  the  Chateau  de 
26 


EXILES   l\  THE  UNITED  STAT] 

Neuilly,  La   Moth     5  int   II  in  the  Depart- 

nt  of  Deux   Sevres,  and  other  properti  It 

will  that  the    Emj 

III  l    renounced    all    claims    of    all    kind.-, 
every  member  of  the   Bonaparte  and  the   Murat 
Lmily.      My  own  small  share  in  th     Q  last 

expi  !    wish  1    of  a  bracelet  in  black, 

and  white  enamel,  twisting  in  and  out  like  so 
many  snakes,  the  centre  a  beautiful  stone  cameo 
representing  the  King  ;  a  bracelet  with  plain  wide 
gold  band,  the  centre  a  ver)  !  irg  l1  —the  stone 

of  ill  omen! — and  an  original  painting  ol  the  King 
on  horseback. 

My  father,  on  hearing  of  the  Queen's   illn 

1  It  is  .       that  Print        I    iroline,  who  subsequently 

knew  •  intimately,  makes  no   reference  to  the 

visit  of  Louis  N  in  to   America  in  1837.     This  was  when 

she  v.  hild  of  three  years.     He  I       two  months  in 

1   irk,  where  he  lived  at  the  VVasl  ■    Hotel,   1         I 

way.      Several   of  his  cousins   were  in  the  United  S  it  the 

time,  but  he  does  n  ar  to  have  met  any  of  them,  although 

it  was  bis  intention  to  visit  Jerome  Bonaparte  at  Baltimore  and 
Achille  Murat  in  Florida,  and  probably  he  would  have  done  so 

he  not  been  recalled  to  Europe  by  the  news  of  his  mother's 
illness  and  by  Conncau's  imperative  venez!"     It  is 

interesting,  however,  to  know  that  he  made  tl  .  tintance 

of  V.  •  >n  Irving,  whom  he  visited  at  Sunnyside.     Irving 

had   also  met    Mile,  de  Montijo.     On   th  tsion  of  the 

53, he  wrote:  "  Louis  Napoleon  and 

e*nie  de  Mont;   i,  Emperor  and  Empress  of  France!  one 
of  whom  I  ha\  it  my  O  on  the  Hudson, 

and  the  other  ol  whom,  when  a  child,  I  have   had  on  my  knee 

rranada  ! " 

-7 


MY  MEMOIRS 

sailed  immediately  for  France,  and  although  an 
exile  without  passport,  crossed  Paris  and  proceeded 
to  Italy.  He  passed  the  frontier  disguised  as  a 
courier,  and  entered  Florence  standing  behind 
his  mother's  carriage,  sent  to  meet  him.  He  had 
not  lost  an  hour  in  hastening  to  her,  but  he  arrived 
too  late  to  see  her  alive.  The  Queen  died  in  her 
Palace  in  Piazza  Ogni  Santi,  Florence,  in  1839. 
She  was  born  at  Ajaccio  in  1782  and  married  in 
1800.  I  have  heard  my  father  tell  of  the  dreadful 
looting  in  the  palace  at  the  moment  it  was  known 
the  Queen  had  breathed  her  last.  Maids  and 
valets,  in  fact  the  whole  household,  seemed  to 
have  organized  a  raid  in  anticipation  of  the  event, 
each  had  a  friend  or  friends  waiting  below  on  the 
piazza,  ready  to  receive  the  stolen  treasures. 
Dresses,  furs,  laces,  jewels,  were  thrown  from 
every  window,  and  many  valuable  things  were 
carried  off  before  the  pillage  could  be  stopped. 

On  leaving  Italy,  my  father  decided  to  gain 
Gibraltar,  thinking  he  would  be  quite  safe  under 
the  protection  of  England  ;  but,  like  the  great 
Emperor,  he  was  mistaken,  and  his  trust  nearly 
proved  fatal.  He  was  arrested  and  kept  prisoner 
on  a  vessel  in  port.  It  was  said  he  was  to  be 
shot.  Each  day  he  awaited  his  sentence,  won- 
dering if  he  should  see  another  dawn  ;  days  spent 
in  the  agony  of  suspense,  when  one  morning  an 
eagle  was  seen  hovering  over  the  ship.     The  poor 

prisoner  felt  his  heart  leap  with  joy.  An  eagle — 
28 


EXILES   IX  THE   UNITED  STATES 

surely  .1  sign  ol  >1  luck!  The  very  same  day 
the  Prince  v  iven  his  liberty  and   started  t 

Ameri<  a. 

At  the  time  of  my  father's  return  to  America 
we  were  living  in  a   large  red-brick  hou  Tl. 

particular  attraction,  I  might  say  the  only  one,  of 
which  the  house  could  boast,  was  a  long  row  of 
very  fine  linden  trees  running  along  the  front  and 
extending  on  each  side  beyond  the  building,  form- 
ing a  wide  gravelled  way,  or  terrace,  stretching 
from  end  to  <-m\.  This  mansion  and  garden 
nearly  joined  King  Joseph's  estate.  Point  Breeze  ; 
only  an  avenue  dividing  our  grounds  and  the 
Park. 

In  one  of  the  houses  on  this  avenue  lived  the 
son  and  grandson  of  old  Judge  Hopkinson.  The 
younger  of  the  two  boys,  Charley,  or  Chip  as  he 
was  best  known,  was  a  very  devoted  admirer  and 
rather  a  favourite  of  mine.  The  poor  boy  came 
over  to  France  in  1853,  I  think,  with  my  aunt, 
Princess  Achille  Murat,  and  we  spent  some  hap; 
months  in  Paris.  We  had  been  children  t<  >gether  ; 
then  boy  and  girl  lovers,  and  it  was  sad  to  see 
how  much  he  felt  the  parting  when  the  hour 
came.  1  tried  to  cheer  him  with  visions  ol  a 
future  meeting,  but  he  could  not  be  comforted, 
and  very  shortly  after  we  had  news  of  his  death. 

On  reaching  Bordentown  on  his  return  from 
Europe  one  hot  summer  night,  wishing  to  surprise 
us,  my  father  walked  into  the  half-lighted  room, 


MY   MEMOIRS 

eager  to  embrace  us  after  his  long  absence,  for- 
getting in  his  haste  the  long  mirror  that  occupied 
one  end  of  the  hall,  almost  from  floor  to  ceiling. 
Through  this  he  crashed,  closely  followed  by  a 
beautiful  Italian  greyhound,  the  Queen's  favourite 
dog,  which  he  had  brought  from  Florence. 

Point  Breeze,  the  Count  de  Survillier's  place, 
was  indeed  lovely,  and  the  estate  one  of  the  finest 
in  the  country,  extending  as  it  did  on  both  sides 
of  the  high  road  which  ran  from  Bordentown  to 
Trenton,  being  about  seven  miles  from  the  latter 
and  scarcely  two  from  the  former  place.  As  I 
look  back,  an  old  woman,  through  this  long  vista 
of  years,  it  seems  to  me  that  I  have  seen  nothing 
on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic  that  can  in  any  way 
compare  with  Point  Breeze,  and  the  remembered 
scenes  of  my  childhood.  Does  memory  lend  its 
enchantments  ?  Could  I  see  once  again  this  spot 
— could  I  once  more  stand  on  the  river's  banks 
and  watch  the  glorious  sunsets — should  I  be  dis- 
appointed ?  Perhaps  so,  and  it  is  well  that  1 
should  keep  my  illusions,  if  illusions  they  are. 
Nothing  is  more  sad  than  to  lose  them. 

The  house  was  built  in  the  style  of  an  Italian 
villa,  only  one  storey  high  and  with  a  flat  terrace 
roof  overlooking  the  park  and  woods.  There  was 
a  large  marble  entrance-hall,  with  wide  staircase 
at  one  end,  the  steps  broad  and  very  low,  so  that 
each  step  seemed  a  small  landing — this  to  avoid 
any  fatigue  to  the  Count,  who,  no  longer  young, 
3° 


EXILES   IX  THE  UNITED  STATES 

is    in    delicate   health.     The    stal  md 

picture    gallery    were    on    the  ground    floor,    tl 
first  floor  1  reserved  for         ry-day  lit  .     The 

picture    gallery   held    the    wh<  on    the 

urden,  which  led  from  one    terrace    to   another 
till    the    park    was    reached.      In    the-    middle    of 

this   gallery  st 1   a   marble  column  holding   the 

bu-^t  of  Princess   Zen, tide,  the   Count's   favourite 
daughter,   the  bust  a   beautiful   one   by  Canova. 
By    the    Count's    orders  the  marble   column  w; 
wreathed  with  fresh  flowers  each  mornin 

Anion-  family  portraits  were  also  magnificent 
pictures  by  the  most  celebrated  of  the  old  masters. 
I  can  scarely  tell  .it  this  distance  of  time  of  all  the 
wonders  and  treasures  accumulated  in  this  exile 
home  where  the  Count  loved  to  live,  surrounded 
by  all  the  souvenirs  and  luxuries  of  his  early  life. 
There  were  many  examples  of  the  Italian  masters, 
such  as  Luca  Giordano  and  Correggio,  but  of  all 
the  pictures  I  think  I  loved  those  of  Rubens 
best.  The  glorious  colouring,  the  cherub  faces 
oi  his  babies,  charmed  my  infant  mind.  1  should 
like  to  describe  the  beautie  i  park  and  woods 
and  tell  of  the  giant  trees,  as  old  as  the  new 
world  ;     ill  it   lake  with    its    blue   waters   sur- 

rounded   by    wide    walks    from    which    rose    high 

nks,  almost  hills,  thickly  clothed  to  the  summit 
with  green  bushes  ami  masses  of  wild  rhododen- 
dron •  of  every  shape  and  hue.  It  was  my  delight 
to  climb  these  hanks,  breaking  my  way  where  no 

3> 


MY  MEMOIRS 

pathway  was,  till,  reaching  the  top,  I  could  see 
the  outer  world.  A  beautiful  panorama  stretched 
before  me,  with  the  Delaware  flowing  peacefully 
at  my  feet.  Not  so  peaceful  was  my  return  home 
with  tangled  hair,  torn  frock,  and  face  and  hands 
the  worse  for  my  battle  with  the  brambles,  to 
encounter  the  cross  looks  and  angry  reprimand 
of  nurse  and  governess. 

Far  away  in  the  woods,  some  miles  no  doubt, 
stood  a  fountain  built  near  a  natural  spring,  sup- 
posed to  be  charmed.  There  was  a  sort  of  pond 
parlour  with  stone  seats  around,  and  here  people 
came  from  far  and  near  to  wish  and  drink  the 
charmed  waters.  Near  this  fountain  were  most 
of  the  picnics  of  our  salad  days.  My  brother, 
myself,  and  young  friends,  mostly  boys — I  am 
almost  ashamed  to  say  I  never  cared  for  girls. 
And  many  times  have  I  there  been  crowned 
Queen  of  the  May. 

This  spot  was  also  haunted  by  a  great  friend 
of  mine,  a  poor  half-witted  creature — he  lived  in 
the  woods  winter  and  summer,  day  and  night, 
taking  shelter  only  in  the  keepers'  huts.  He 
never  understood  strangers,  and  disliked  them, 
rushing  away  if  he  caught  sight  of  an  unfamiliar 
face,  uttering  the  most  unearthly  sounds.  He 
had  a  certain  cunning  about  him,  as  often  with 
these  uncanny  things.  He  spent  his  time  taming 
squirrels,  such  lovely  little  animals,  not  like 
English  squirrels,  but  much  bigger  and  dark 
32 


EXILES   l\   THE   UNITED  STATES 

M wish  grey,  more  the  colour  ol  a  blue  roan  horse. 
I  forget  tin-  name  of  this  "  man  of  th<-  hush,"  who 
could  rarely  be  persuaded  to  accept  any  food, 
living  entirel)  on  nuts  and  wild  fruit,  principally 
on  persimmons.  The  persimmon  tree  abounded 
in  the  park  and  v.  The  poor  idiot  was  very 

fond  ol  me,  and  always  greeted   me  with  smil< 
and  an   offering   of   wild    flowers.      I    have   often 

O 

felt  sorry  that  I   never  knew  what  became  oi   my 

:id  of  early  days. 

The  Count  had  a  large  retinue  of  people  round 
him.  I  have  forgotten  the  names  of  most  ol 
them.  Mr.  Maillard,  his  private  secretary,  1 
knew  later  on.  From  him  we  received  the  news 
of  the  Count's  death  during  a  visit  to   Florence  in 

14.  The  Count  himself  1  cm  never  forget — 
his  face  and  person  were  so  deeply  inn  d  on 

my  mind  by  a  large  oil  painting,  taken  after  his 
death  as  he  was  lying  in  state,  in  evening  dress, 
with  the  broad  ribbon  of  the  Legion  d'Honneur 
across  his  chest  and,  strange  though  it  s< -ins,  a 
rosebud  in  his  buttonhole,  lie  was  considered 
to  bear  a  resemblance  to  his  younger  brother,  the 
Kmperor  Napoleon,  but  more  in  figure  and  habit 
than  in  face. 

Kin-  [oseph  left  all  his  American  property  to 
his  grandson  Joseph,  son  of  Princess  Zenaide, 
who  bore  the  title  of  Prince  de  Musignano.  He 
came    to     Point    Breeze    after    his    grandfather's 

o 

death,     and     there     were:     great     rejoicings     and 
c  33 


MY   MEMOIRS 

illuminations  for  his  arrival.  He  took  a  great 
fancy  to  me,  and  I  was  very  proud  of  my  big 
cousin,  but  his  stay  in  America  was  very  short 
and  I  never  saw  him  in  after  years.  He  died 
when  still  young.  He  had  a  very  Italian  face, 
but  was  not  handsome,  being  short  and  inclined,  as 
all  the  Bonapartes,  to  be  stout.  A  certain  charm 
of  manner  and  a  bewitching  smile  were  his  chief 
attractions.  He  spoke  with  a  strong  Italian 
accent,  even  when  speaking  French,  but  he  was 
a  real  Prince,  and  his  advent  in  the  United  States 
created  quite  a  flutter  among  the  American 
belles.  Finding  himself  for  the  first  time  away 
from  home  and  country,  with  not  one  familiar 
face  to  greet  him,  he  felt  dull  and  lonely.  He 
did  not  care  for  the  invitations  that  came  like 
rain  from  every  side,  so  I  was  allowed  to  ride, 
drive,  row,  or  wander  with  him  in  the  mossy 
woods,  where  lilies-of-the-valley  grew,  where  all 
breathed  of  peace  and  gladness.  The  sweet 
singing  of  the  birds,  the  soft  rustling  of  the  leaves, 
the  ripple  of  the  stream  as  it  wandered  on  its  way 
— all  told  of  the  quiet  and  happiness  that  childhood 
only  knows  before  the  sad  awakening  into  the 
troubled  sea  of  life — of  the  world  with  its  vanities, 
its  jealousies,  its  turmoil,  its  sorrows.  The  Prince 
was  a  charming  companion,  very  clever,  talked 
well  on  all  subjects,  and  knew  how  to  make 
himself  agreeable  and  fascinating  to  young  and 
old.  Perhaps  you  will  say  my  opinions  given  are 
34 


EXILES   IX  THE   UNITED  STATES 

ely  those  of  my  age.  Granted;  but  you 
must  not  forget  I  was  an  American  girl,  and  also 
brought  up  to  a  life  far  beyond  my  year  . 

In  one  of  the  highest  parts  of  the  park, 
reached  by  a  long  flight  of  stone  steps,  there  was 
a  platform,  or  rather  a  wide  square,  paved,  f-xcept 
<mi  the  side  where  it  overlooked  a  deep  ravine; 
on  this  side  was  a  gravel  walk  and  high  railing, 
formed  by  stone  columns  supporting  a  parapet. 
In  the  centre  of  the  paved  part  stood  a  belved 
with  winding  stairs  inside  and  balconies  running 

o 

round  the  building  at  different  heights  on  the 
i  \terior.  When  the  top  of  this  observatory  was 
hed,  it  disclosed  a  magnificent  panorama  of 
the  surrounding  country.  Prince  Joseph  was 
extravagantly  fond  of  music,  and  delighted  on 
summer  evenings  in  holding  little  impromptu  open- 
air  concerts  and  suppers  at  the  belvedere.  My 
mother  both  played  and  sang.  The  harp,  on 
which  she  excelled,  was  her  favourite  instrument. 
She  gathered  round  her  on  these  occasions  all 
that  tin:  place  afforded  of  youthful  musical  talent 
for  the  Prince's  amusement.  Alas!  no  true 
Bonaparte  was  ever  musical.  Though  a  Murat 
as  well,  I  am  no  exception  to  the  rule.  For  one 
year,  when  1  was  twelve,  an  Italian  prima  donna 
lost  her  time,  and  my  father  spent  his  money,  but 
no  ction,  could  make  me  turn  a  tune.  To  this 
day  I  am  still  incapable  even  of  singing  "Yankee 
1  >oodle." 

35 


MY  MEMOIRS 

This  belvedere  was  all  that  remained  of  Point 
Breeze,  as  it  was  long  before  I  knew  it.  The 
house  then  stood  on  the  height  I  have  described, 
and  all  around  were  thousands  of  beautiful  trees, 
reaching  and  touching  each  other  over  the  drives 
and  pathways — ravines  filled  with  dark,  thick 
foliage,  sheltering  the  hillside.  By  the  careless 
act  of  a  guest,  who  started  for  Philadelphia  leaving 
his  room  locked  and  a  large  wood  fire  on  the 
hearth,  this  magnificent  dwelling  was  burnt  to 
the  ground.  Something  in  the  room  caught  fire, 
and  dense  clouds  of  smoke,  rising  in  columns 
above  the  house,  first  gave  the  alarm.  The  delay 
in  gaining  entrance  to  the  room  and,  no  doubt,  the 
want  of  engines  and  ready  means  of  extinguishing 
the  flames,  quite  unknown  in  those  days,  caused 
the  entire  destruction  of  the  building.  Only  a  few 
pictures  of  price  and  other  valuable  heirlooms 
were  saved. 

The  Count  built  the  "new  house,"  the  one  I 
remember,  in  the  lower  part  of  the  park,  nearer 
and  facing  the  Trenton  road,  which  ran  through 
part  of  the  Point  Breeze  grounds.  The  stables, 
which  occupied  this  spot,  were  used  to  form  the 
body  of  the  new  building,  from  which  a  long 
underground  passage  ran  to  the  boat-house, 
constructed  on  the  eastern  bank  of  the  lake. 

Adolphe  Maillard  was  the  handsome  son  of 
the  Count's  secretary,  who  married  a  Miss  Ward. 
He  brought  her  to  Bordentown,  to  a  house  at  the 
36 


EXILES   IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 

end   i  town  and  just  at  the  top  of  the  hill 

ling   to    Point.    Bre<  Her   arrival    created 

quite         nsation  among  the  Bordentonians.     She 
was  tall,  elegant,  well  dressed,  and  had  a  pretty 
When  first   I  saw    her  I  was  struck  by  her 
appearai  ind    have    never  >tten   the   im- 

pression she  made  on  my  girlish  fancy.  I  did  not, 
however,  see  much  of  them,  but  the  house  they 
lived  in  was  one  1  knew  well,  as  it  was  occupied 
r  some  time  by  the  Spanish  Minister,  Don  Pedro 
Alcantara  d'Argaiz,  and  his  family,  consisting  of 
two  sons,  and  a  daughter  about  my  own  a. 
The  eldest  boy,  Kmile  Mouravega,  was  Mine. 
d'Argaiz'  son  by  a  first  marriage,  and  the  younger, 
(oseph,  or  l'epe  as  we  called  him,  was  quite  a 
child.  My  father  and  the  Minister  were  intimate 
friends,  almost  like  brothers,  and  we  lived  quite 
as  one  family  ;  so  much  so,  that  on  the  occasion  of 
the  visit  of  old  General  Bertrand  to  America,  th<  y 
came  to  our  rescue  in  this  way  : 

It  must  have  been  early  in  the  'forties— I  can- 
not say  which  year — probably  1S42  or  1843,  tnat 
the  old  General,  who  had  been  but  a  short  time  in 
the  United  States,  suddenly  announced  his  inten- 
tion to  visit  Bordentown  to  see  my  father,  He 
was  preceded  b\  some  of  his  suite,  who  appeared 
one  fine  morning  in  the  most  unexpected  manner. 
1  ought  perhaps  to  remind  my  readers  that  Bert- 
rand  accompanied  the  Emperor  Napoleon  to  St. 
Helena,   and,    sharing    his    banishment,   was    his 

37 


MY   MEMOIRS 

dearest  friend,  confidant  and  intimate  secretary. 
He,  as  well  as  Mme.  Bertrand,  and  his  children, 
remained  with  the  Emperor  to  the  last.  General 
Bertrand  had  the  sad  honour  of  accompanying 
the  Prince  de  Joinville  to  St.  Helena,  whence  in 
1840  he  brought  back  to  France  the  remains  of 
Napoleon.  Too  long,  alas !  had  his  ashes  rested 
on  English  soil!  General  Bertrand,  born  in  1773, 
must  have  been,  when  I  remember  him,  about 
seventy  years  of  age.  His  health  was  greatly 
impaired,  and  the  information  was  given  us  that 
he  never  ate  anything  but  fish.  Every  course 
throughout  the  dinner  was  to  be  of  different  kinds 
of  fish.  Great  was  the  consternation  of  the  house- 
hold. What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  famous  shad 
of  the  Delaware  was  all  we  had  at  our  disposal. 
Our  neighbours,  the  d'Argaiz,  were  only  more 
fortunate  inasmuch  as  their  French  chef,  a  treasure, 
was  able  to  procure  some  rock-fish,  and  with  these 
two  inhabitants  of  the  waters,  he  made  a  splendid 
feast  of  several  courses,  so  admirably  disguised 
in  their  different  aspects,  that  the  bill  of  fare 
offered  a  varied  list  of  ingenious  names  to  tempt 
the  appetite,  and  the  dinner  was  a  great  success. 
At  least,  so  we  were  told,  my  young  friends  and 
myself,  who  were  allowed  to  peep  at  the  great 
man  unseen.  The  General  and  his  suite  left  on 
the  following  day.  In  1844  we  heard  of  his  death 
at  Chateauroux.  He  was  buried  at  the  Invalides  ; 
in  death  as  in  life  faithful  to  the  hero  he  had  served. 
38 


EXILES  IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 

Monsieur   d'Argaiz,   who  dth    was  in    a 

very   prei  irious  state,  v.  to  resign  his 

post   and  return  to   5]  .in,    where  I  me 

time    later.     Christine,   his  hter,    married  a 

Mr.    Foui  md    after    her  marri         we   n< 

met;    but  Ion  trs  aft  r,    Emile,  who   was  ap- 

-   cretary  of  Legation  at  Vienna,  spent  a 
few  days  at  Paris  1  joining  his  post.      It  was 

a  great    pleasure    to    meet    once  again,    and    . 
thoroughly  enjoyed  a  Ion  it  the  Avenue 

Montaigne.  Many  were  the  reiterated  promises 
to  correspond  and  not  lose  sight  of  each  other. 
He  sent  me  a  long  letter  on  arriving  at  Vienna, 
beautifully   written  on   gilt-<  iper  and   per- 

fumed with  vi  I  have  it  still — but  alas  !  for 

broken  promises,  we  never  wrote  a  second  time. 
Where  is  he  now?  Chi  lo  sa !  Paris  life  left 
little  time  f<  >r  th  lUgTit. 

In  1870,  when,  after  our  disasters,  we  took 
refuge  in  England,  I  found  my  old  friend  [oseph 
d'Argaiz  Secretary  to  the  Spanish  Legation  in 
London. 

Among  other  persons  familiar  to  my  early 
recollection  .  Billy  Vanderbilt  stands  prominent; 
a  tall,  slim,  shy,  sandy-haired  youth  as  I  knew 
him.  His  father,  Cornelius  Vanderbilt,  was  then 
beginning  the  great  fortune  which  has  brought 
his  name  so  prominently  before  the  English  world 
of  finance  and  ty.      And  I  must  not  forget  an 

old  commodore— Commodore    Stewart.      1  often 


MY   MEMOIRS 

saw  him,  a  good-natured,  good-humoured,  real 
sailor  face,  and  most  kind  to  children.  He  lived 
in  a  nice  old  country  house  overlooking  the  Dela- 
ware and  surrounded — almost  closed  in — by  high 
silver  pines.  I  read  some  years  ago,  I  think  in  an 
American  magazine,  that  "he  had  sailed  for  the 
unknown  Port  at  the  advanced  age  of  ninety-one." 

Yet  another  person  comes  before  my  mind, 
the  family  physician,  Doctor  Cook,  who  brought 
me  into  the  world.  He  was  a  very  ugly  man  with 
a  game  leg.  It  was  said  that  I  was  so  slow  in 
making  my  appearance  that  he  was  quite  over- 
come, and  when  at  last  he  held  me  in  his  arms 
he  fainted  away. 

Mr.  Edwin  Stevens,  the  great  railway  con- 
tractor in  the  days  when  railways  were  in  their 
infancy,  had  a  pretty  place  not  far  from  the 
river.  He  had  no  children,  but  a  sweet  wife, 
so  gentle  and  loving.  She  endeared  herself  to 
all  around,  rich  and  poor.  Mr.  Stevens'  peach 
orchards,  which  extended  for  miles  away,  were 
renowned,  and  his  great  pride  was  to  show 
them. 

The  summer  of  which  I  am  writing,  1846, 
was  a  glorious  one,  the  nights  surpassing  the 
days  in  loveliness.  We  begged  for  an  open-air 
ball  in  honour  of  Prince  Joseph.  Mr.  Stevens, 
whose  hospitality  was  unlimited,  was  always 
ready  to  add  to  our  pleasures  and  amusements. 
He  decided  to  give  a  Peach  Dance.  He  had 
40 


EXILES   IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 

the  orchards  brilliantly  illuminated,  garlands  of 
lanterns  hung  from  tree  to  tree,  lighting  up  the 
beautiful    fruit    with    which    the    bram  were 

laden.     At  the  nearest  end  of  the  orchards,  tv 
immense    tents    spread    their    win  with 

parquet  floor  prepared  for  dancing,  the  other 
with    tabh  r    supper,     where     every    luxury 

abounded,  from  canva  k,  terrapins  and  blue- 

points,    to    pine-apples,     jellies    and    i<  We 

danced  till  the  sun  was  high  up  in  the  ski< 
throwing  a  mellow  light  over  all  things.  Long 
was  the  Peach  Dance  remembered  and  talked 
of!  I  was  Queen  of  the  fite.  It  was  my  first 
big'  dance,  in  the  first  year  of  my  "teens,"  and 
I  had  two  devoted  dancers  in  Prince  Joseph 
and    I  [amilton    Beckett. 

Mr.  Beckett,  belonging  to  an  old  English 
family,  lived  quite  near  us  on  the  outskirts  of 
the  town.  lie  was  a  wealthy  man,  with  only 
one  son,  by  his  first  wife.  His  second  wife  was 
almost  an  invalid,  with  shattered  nerves  and 
broken  health.  They  occupied  a  large  red-brick 
house  with  extensive  gardens,  beautiful  old  trees 
and     shaded     walks,    lawns     and     pastur  His 

II  milton  Beckett,  and  I  were  great  friends, 
brought  together  from  our  earliest  years  1>\  the 
friendship  of  our  fathers.  He  was  several  years 
ler  than  myself,  and  spent  a  great  part  ^\  the 
year  in  England  with  a  maiden  aunt  for  the 
benefit  of  his  education.     When  he  was  at  home 

4' 


MY   MEMOIRS 

in  Bordentown,  we  were  never  apart.  We  had 
grown  up  to  a  kind  of  boy  and  girl  flirtation. 
The  advent  of  Prince  Joseph  had  perhaps  blown 
Hamilton's  slumbering  affection  into  a  sudden 
flame  ;  I  am  not  quite  sure.  But  certain  it  is 
that  when  he  was  forced  again  to  return  to 
England,  in  the  sad  parting  hour,  as  he  said 
good-bye,  he  slipped  his  mother's  betrothal  ring 
with  its  half-hoop  of  magnificent  pearls  on  my 
finger  and  bade  me  wear  it  till  he  could  claim 
his  bride.  He  left  me.  Our  destinies  strayed 
far  apart.  He  left  me  scarcely  more  than  a 
child — on  an  autumn  evening  in  1846,  standing 
under  the  linden  trees.  When  next  we  met, 
years  had  passed.  It  was  in  a  London  drawing- 
room  in  1857.  We  both  were  married.  His 
wife,  who  was  a  daughter  of  Lord  Chancellor 
Lyndhurst,  stood  beside  him.  The  gong  sounded 
for  luncheon.  I  was  seated  by  his  side,  for  he 
was  host ;  white  powdered  footmen  glided  round 
us  ;  we  talked  of  early  days,  of  our  last  chestnut 
feast  in  the  woods  of  Point  Breeze,  sighed  over 
some  fondly  remembered  spot,  laughed  at  an 
old  joke.  I  heard  from  him  that  Point  Breeze 
had  been  sold ;  the  house  and  private  park 
bought  by  his  father,  the  rest  of  the  grounds 
sold  for  speculation.  A  grove  of  villas  had 
sprung  up  where  once  the  giant  oaks  and 
sycamores  held  their  sway. 

The    winter    of    1846-7    was   a   severe   one. 
42 


EXILES  IX  THE  UNITED  STATES 

I.  mg  icicles  hung  suspended  from  housetop  and 
tree,  glittering  in  the  sunshine  as  if  studded  with 
diamonds,   th  ind    white  with  two  or  thr< 

incl  iw,    frozen  hard.     The  sleigh  bells 

filled  the  air  with  their  jingle,  the  merry  occupants 
of  th  ;hs  muffled  in  furs,  and  lull  of  mirth  and 

fun,  kept  up  a  noise  in  harmony.  I  was  one  among 
them,  but  neither  th'-  fresh  crisp  brightness  <»l  the 
scene  n<>r  th':  gay  laughter  ol  those  around  me 
tld  chase  away  my  gloomy  mood.  The  ring 
had  been  sent  back.  My  mother  raised  her 
shoulders  and  shook  her  head  at  the  absurdity  of 
such  an  engagement.  Thus  my  first  love  was 
crushed.  So  young  in  lite,  I  lost  an  illusion — and 
I  was  des< 'ha-'. 

Weeks  rolled  on — the  cold  continued  intense. 
The  Delaware  was  completely  frozen.  The  traffic 
from  Camden  to  Philadelphia  by  ferry  was  inter- 
rupted. I  was  going  to  stay  with  some  i 
friends  of  my  mother  to  whom  I  often  went  on  a 
visit.  We  drove  in  our  sleigh  across  the  river, 
running  and  sliding  instead  of  driving  part  of  the 
way.  <  >ur  friends  lived  in  Chestnut  Street  No.  2, 
Boston  Row.  They  were  a  [ewish  family — a 
dear  old  maiden  lad)',  her  two  brothers  and  a 
niece.  Miss  Moses,  or  rather  "Aunt  Becky,"  as 
we  always  called  her,  had  lived  in  Scotland.  She 
was  the  heroine  of  Sir  Walter  Scott's  Rebecca  in 
Ivanhoe.  She  had  still  a  very  beautiful  face,  a 
most   perfect   type  of   the    Jewish    beauty.      Her 


MY   MEMOIRS 

form  and  figure,  cast  in  nature's  happiest  mould, 
few  could  rival.  She  was  kindness  itself,  and  I 
enjoyed  being  with  her. 

Nothing  of  interest  occurred  during  my  visit, 
unless  it  was  spending  an  evening  at  Mrs.  Butler's 
(Fanny  Kemble)  and  hearing  her  read  one  of 
Shakespeare's  plays.  Her  rendering  of  it  was  so 
marvellous  that,  young  as  I  was,  it  made  a  great 
impression  on  me  which  I  have  never  forgotten. 
Fanny  Kemble  had  gone  to  America  with  her 
father  in  1832.  She  married  Pierce  Butler,  a 
southern  planter,   in   1834. 

My  visits  to  Philadelphia  were  always  asso- 
ciated with  the  dentist ;  so  they  left  no  very 
pleasant  memories.  My  mother  had  a  mania 
about  our  teeth.  Unfortunately  my  mouth  was 
too  small  for  my  thirty-two  grinders ;  I  was 
periodically  taken  to  Mr.  Tovvnsend,  a  neat,  clean- 
looking  little  man  in  a  white  linen  jacket.  His 
voice  saying,  "  Yes,  this  one,  this  one,  this  one 
and  this  one,  must  all  be  sacrificed  to  make 
room,"  still  rings  in  my  ears,  and  the  horror  I  felt 
as  I  listened  is  among  my  most  vivid  recollections. 

I  must  skip  1847,  a  dull,  weary,  uninteresting 
year  of  waiting  and  longing  and  hoping  for  the 
unknown  future.  One  thing  I  may  relate.  In 
the  summer  of  this  year  I  was  allowed  to  pay  a 
visit  to  Mr.  Stevens  at  his  villa  at  Hoboken,  near 
Brooklyn.  His  wife  was  dead.  Some  cousins,  the 
Connovers,  were  staying  with  him.  Two  of  the 
44 


EXILES   IX  THE  UNITED  STAT1  S 

Conm  girls   were  my  dearest,  I  might  almost 

my  only,  girl  frien  My  brother,  eighteen 

months  younger  than  myself,  was  at  a  private 
tutor's  in  New  York  — -a  kind  old  Frenchman, 
Monsieur  Peuguet,  who  was  educating  i  few 
boys  with  his  own  sons.  He  had  two  charm- 
ing daughters,  whose  acquaintance  I  made,  as 
I  was  asked  to  stay  a  few  days  with  my  brother 
on  m)'  way  through  New  York.  Of  the  boys 
I  knew  several.  My  brother  always  brought 
one  or  other  ol  his  fellow-students  home  for 
the  holida)  In  one  of  these  I  was  much 
interested  Charlie  Wentworth — an  English  boy. 
I  liked  him  personally,  and  his  story  1  thought 
;ad  and  pathetic,  not  to  say  romantic.  He 
was  brought  over  from  En  '.ami  when  quite  a 
little  fellow,  by  a  gentleman  whose  name  I  forget. 
Arrangements  were  made  to  leave  him  with  M. 
Peuguet,  a  certain  sum  to  be  paid  each  year  for 
his  education   and   maintenan  For  some  years 

the  money  was  regularly  paid  ;  then  suddenly  it 
stopped.  X"  reason  was  given.  No  answer  was 
recei\  ed  to  the  numerous  letters  sent  to  tin:  person 
who  had  deposited  the  hoy  in  New  York,  and 
who  had  no  doubt  given  a  false  name  and  address. 
Years  went  on.     M.  Peuguet   was  kindness  itself 

o 

to  the  boy,  treating  him  as  a  son.  I  heard  all 
this  and  the  fact  that  M.  Peuguet  knew  nothing 
more  than  the  statement  made  by  the  person  in 
charge  ol    the  child,   viz.   that    he   was  the  son   of 

45 


MY  MEMOIRS 

a  rich  and  titled  English  lady,  who  had  family- 
reasons  for  wishing  the  birth  of  her  son  to  be  kept 
a  secret  for  a  time,  and  that  the  boy  would  be 
claimed  by  his  mother  as  soon  as  it  was  possible 
to  acknowledge  him,  as  he  was  heir  to  a  title  and 
large  estates.  When  I  left  America,  M.  Peuguet, 
I  believe,  knew  no  more  than  I  have  told,  and 
had  no  clue  that  could  lead  to  the  discovery  of 
the  boy's  parentage.  Charlie  at  this  time  was 
about  sixteen  years  old.  He  was  a  dear  boy,  and 
felt  dreadfully  his  painful  position.  He  was  not 
even  sure  that  Wentworth  was  his  name.  I  have 
often  wondered  what  has  become  of  him.  If 
alive,  he  may  read  these  lines.  How  strange  it 
would  be  ! 

The  younger  of  M.  Peuguet's  daughters 
married  a  Mr.  Forli,  a  descendant  of  one  of  the 
old  Huguenot  families  of  La  Rochelle.  They 
lived  in  New  York,  but  I  met  them  once  when 
her  husband  brought  her  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  some  members  of  his  family  residing  in 
the  Charente  Inferieure. 

Of  my  mother's  family  I  have  said  little, 
perhaps  because,  with  the  exception  of  two  sisters 
— both  old  maids — and  a  cousin,  I  knew  very 
little.  One  sister  died  a  few  years  after  my  birth, 
the  other,  Aunt  Jane,  came  to  Paris  and  lived 
with  us  till  her  death,  an  old  woman  of  ninety- 
one.      Our   cousin,    George    Crofts,    often    came 

north  and  spent  a  portion  of  the  year  with  us. 
46 


EXILES   1\   THE  UNITED  STATES 

As  a  small  child  1  ..  -,.  r\  fond  of  him,  and, 
indeed,  had  things  turned  out  differently,  I  might 
have  been,  as  he  always  playfully  called  me,  "the 
r    e  oi  his  wilderne; 

The  Wilderness  was  a  beautiful  place  he 
owned  in  one  of  the  Southern  States  -one  of 
those  States  which  suffered  the  most  in  the  disas- 
trous American  war  of  [861  2.  1  believe  my 
cousin  was  nearly  ruined,  as  weir  all  those  who 
had  large  plantations  and  a  number  of  slaves. 
So  1  have  never  regretted  that  another  and  no 
doubt  a  more  beautiful  "  Rose'  flourished  at  the 
Wilderness. 


-17 


CHAPTER    III 

THE    REVOLUTION    OF     1 848    AND    THE    PRESIDENCY 

Downfall  of  Louis  Philippe — Our  Removal  to  France — Voyage 
to  Havre — Escape  from  Fire — My  First  Impressions  of 
Paris — Prince  Louis  Napoleon — His  candidature  as  Presi- 
dent of  the  Republic — My  first  meeting  with  him — His 
personal  character — The  Pavilion  de  Breteuil — The  Princess 
Mathilde — The  Chateau  de  St.  Gratien — The  Prince  and 
Princess  de  Wagram — Nicolas  Clary's  foot — A  Recollec- 
tion of  1870 

At  last  the  trumpet  sounded  that  called  the  exile 
to  his  home  again.  The  revolution  of  February 
1848  came  like  a  thunderbolt.  The  news  of  the 
downfall  of  Louis  Philippe  seemed  to  us  almost 
too  good  to  be  true.  It  affected  all  our  prospects 
and  we  were  "  no  longer  contraband."  My  father 
left  immediately  for  France.  All  my  dreams  of 
happiness  were  surely  realized !  Visions  of  crowns 
and  thrones,  grandeur  and  state,  crowded  on  my 
dizzy  brain,  not  seen  in  the  dim  past  but  now 
spread  before  me  in  a  wide  horizon,  picturing 
the  future  arising  in  golden  splendour  from  the 
cloud  that  so  long  obscured  our  destiny. 

I  knew  this  sheltered  nook  was  not  my  per- 
48 


1  III      I'KINi   I      Ml    HAT. 


THE    REVOLUTION    OF    1848 

manent  home     though  I   had  friends,  some  little 
rts   too;    and   many   were   the   tears   we 
d,  and  fond  the  whispered   words  in  the 
hours  of  parting  !     My  elder  brother  w        till  with 

his  tutor  in  New  York,  and  we  spent  some  time 
there,  at  Astor's  Hotel,  preparing  for  our  voyage 
to  Europ 

S  in  October  [848  I  bade  adieu  to  America 
tor  ever,  and  sailed  for  Havre  with  my  mother, 
my  younger  sister  Anna,  and  two  brothers, 
Joachim  and  Achille.  The  vessel  was  called  the 
.V.  A  as.     We  were  tossed  for  twenty-seven 

days  on  the  seas,  having  some  fine  and  some  very 
stormy  weather.  My  mother  had  derided  on  a 
sailing  vessel  in  preference  to  a  steamer,  as  with 
maids  and  nurses  and  our  worldly  possessions  we 
were  a  large  party  and  the  expense  was   not  so 

Lt,  while  the  ship  would  he  less  crowded  than 
one  of  Mr.  Cunard's  paddle  ho, its. 

1  only  remember  one  incident  of  the  voyage 
worthy  of  note.  I  was  dreadfully  ill,  and  while 
all  the  other  passengers  u^re  able  to  be  on  deck. 
playing  ;^.im<-s  or  enjoying  music,  I  was  for 
to  lie  down  all  day  ;  sometimes  on  deck,  hut  more 
frequently  below  in  a  small  ladies'  cabin,  where  a 
mattress  was  put  on  the  floor.  This  was  my  bed 
night  and  day.  I  had  such  a  dislike  of  a  stuffy 
berth.  It  seemed  those  weary  weeks  would  never 
end  as  I  lay  there  thinking  a\m\  wishing  the  days 
away.    ( )ne  evening,  some  little  time  alter  the  bell 

d  49 


MY   MEMOIRS 

had  summoned  us  all  to  supper,  I  was  lying  trying 
to  read — the  book  was  The  Vale  of  Cedars.  Sud- 
denly I  thought  I  saw  a  streak  of  light  from  under 
the  door  of  the  cabin  belonging  to  the  second 
mate  across  the  alleyway.  For  a  few  moments  I 
watched,  wondering  what  the  light  could  be.  As 
I  watched  it  got  brighter.  Springing  up,  for- 
getting I  felt  both  sick  and  giddy,  I  made  my 
way  to  the  saloon  to  give  the  alarm.  I  knew  the 
ship  must  be  on  fire.  Had  it  not  so  happened 
that  I  was  on  the  floor  and  noticed  the  light,  no 
one  would  have  known  that  a  forgotten  candle 
had  set  fire  to  some  article  of  clothing,  and  we 
should  undoubtedly  have  been  burnt  to  death, 
though  in  mid-ocean,  which  at  first  thought  seems 
impossible.  Soon  all  hands  were  at  work  to 
extinguish  the  flames ;  in  a  short  time  we  were 
out  of  danger  and  only  suffered  from  the  fright 
and  a  slightly  longer  passage  owing  to  some 
damage  done. 

The  St.  Nicholas  sailed  into  the  port  at  Havre 
one  lovely  morning,  the  last  day  of  October.  On 
landing  we  made  our  way  to  the  hotel,  where 
rooms  had  been  retained  for  us,  amid  a  bustle 
and  confusion  of  shouts  and  noise  and  din  of 
voices  that  sounded  like  the  roll  of  distant 
thunder.  We  only  remained  one  night  in  the 
town,  leaving  the  next  day  for  Paris.  The  only 
thing  I  remember  of  Havre  is  a  long  street  where 
every  other  house  seemed  to  me  to  be  occupied 
5° 


THE    REVOLUTION    OF    1848 

by   a    bird    fancier.     I  of  every   description 

hung  from  every  window,  and  their  merry  litt 
occupants  filled  the  air  with  their  mirth  and 
son.  Poor  little  prisoners,  brought  from  their 
different  countries  and  kept  captive  in  a  foreign 
land!  1  can  feel  for  and  pity  them  now  that  my 
life,  like  theirs,  is  caged  on  foreign  soil,  so  far,  and 
so  changed  from  the  old  days  of  sunny  France! 

Our  journey  to  Paris  was  uneventful,  and 
writing  at  this  distance  of  time  I  can  only  tell  of 
is  I  remember  them.  Impressions  have- 
many  of  them  faded  from  my  mind.  Some  struck 
me  too  deeply  to  be  effaced.  Of  these  was  my 
first  sight  of  the  Seine — the  beautiful  river  ot 
which  I  had  heard  so  often.  Bornonthe  borders 
«»f  the  Delaware,  I  had  never  realized  how  small 
and  insignificant  it  would  appear  when  compared 
with  the  mighty  stream  I  had  left  behind  me. 

We  arrived  in  Paris  at  seven  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  and  drove  to  the  Rue  de  Lille,  in  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain,  where  my  father  had  taken 
an  apartment  for  us,  just  Opposite  the  military 
barracks,  and  the  first  sound  that  caught  my  ear  as 
I  left  the  carriage  was  that  ol  the  drums  beating 
the  retreat.  Every  one  seemed  to  be  in  a  state 
of  great  agitation  and  everything  under  military 
rule.  The  dull  old  street,  with  the  duller  houses, 
looking  like  barracks  with  their  great  portes 
and  facades  all  alike,  struck  a  chill  to  my 
heart,    which    was    increased    tenfold    when    we 

1 1  -•  ^i 


MY  MEMOIRS 

reached  the  first  floor  ;  the  rooms  were  certainly- 
large  and  lofty,  but  bare ;  the  furniture  scanty 
and  old-fashioned,  not  a  picture  on  the  walls,  not 
a  carpet  to  be  seen  ;  the  floors  polished  like 
mirrors,  with  a  rug  here  and  there.  My  room, 
when  reached,  gave  the  finishing  stroke  to  my 
despair.  Weary  and  disappointed,  I  felt  more 
inclined  to  sit  down  and  cry  than  to  dress  for 
dinner.  The  room  looked  out  at  the  back,  next 
to  the  nurseries — the  floor  was  paved  in  small  red 
brick  tiles,  varnished  over  to  look  like  china. 
The  curtains  and  furniture  were  dark  and  dingy. 
And  this  was  Paris ! — the  Paris  of  my  dreams, 
for  which  I  had  longed  and  hoped  and  prayed ! 

Days  went  by,  all  filled  with  people  coming 
and  going,  with  business  faces  as  long  and  ugly 
as  the  rooms  were  gloomy.  I  felt  so  miserable, 
so  depressed,  so  unhappy.  All  this  was  such  a 
contrast  to  Point  Breeze  and  the  world  I  had 
lived  in,  the  life  I  had  heretofore  led,  a  free  and 
happy  child,  surrounded  with  every  luxury,  spoilt 
and  loved  and  flattered.  I  went  out  seldom 
unless  accompanied.  It  was  not  considered  safe 
at  that  time  to  be  in  the  streets  of  Paris  without 
proper  escort.  Then  my  mother  fell  ill.  She  had 
taken  a  severe  chill,  and  for  days  and  weeks  we 
saw  no  one  but  doctors  and  nurses.  Sitting  in 
her  darkened  room  with  a  book,  I  often  could  not 
see  to  read.  My  principal  amusement  was  to 
crawl  under  the  dressing-table  which  stood  in  the 
52 


THE    REVOLUTION    OF    1848 

window,    ami,     through    a    crack    in    the    closely 
drawn  curtains,  watch  the  soldiers  as  they  trot 
past,     carrying     dispatches,     or     others     slowly 
patrolling  the  street  two  by  two.     Had   I   been 
older,     1     doubt    it"   my    life    would    have    been 
different.     In   these  days  of  agitation   and  str 
there   really  was   nowhere   to  go,  nothing  to  do. 
Politics    were     the     all-absorbing    topic.      M 
salens,  certainly  all  those  of  the  noble   faubourg, 
had   closed    their  doors  after   the    famous   days 
called     .         [i  urn  de     fuin.       Paris     trade 

suffered  considerably,  and  tl.  ipkeeper  world 

regretted  the  fall  of  the  house  of  Orleans. 

My  father  had  been  elected  Reprisentant  du 
P tuple  by  an  immense  majority  in  the  Depart- 
ment du  Lot,  the  cradle  of  his  family.  The 
representants  received  nine  thousand  francs  per 
year.  I  still  have  my  father's  silver  medal,  such 
h  reprisentant  was  given,  with  the  date 
upon  it. 

Prince  Louis  Napoleon,  the  future  President 
of  the  Republic,  who  was  living  in  London,  came 
over  to  Paris  and  ottered  himself  to  the  electors. 
He  was  returned  by  two  or  three  departments 
and  took  his  seat  in  the  Chamber,  but  only  for 
two  days.  Being  accused  of  taking  the  position 
as  Pretender  to  the  throne  of  France  and  annoyed 
at  the  hostile  attitude  of  the  Executive  Commission 
then  in  power,  the  Prince  returned  to  England, 
where  he  remained  till  again  called  by  the  electors 

53 


MY  MEMOIRS 

in  September  of  the  same  year  when,  urged  by 
his  friends,  he  decided  again  to  take  his  seat  in 
the  Legislative  Chamber. 

The  rooms  the  Prince  occupied  at  the  Hotel 
du  Rhin,  Place  Vendome,  were  on  the  ground 
floor — a  small  bachelor  suite  ;  he  was  accompanied 
by  M.  de  Persigny,  his  private  secretary  and 
friend.  His  candidature  as  President  of  the 
French  Republic  now  seemed  definitely  settled. 
His  principal  and  rather  serious  opponent  was 
General  de  Cavaignac.  With  what  success  he 
conquered  his  rival  and  the  triumph  with  which  he 
was  proclaimed  belong  to  history.  To  describe 
them  would  be  too  ambitious  an  enterprise  for  the 
souvenirs  of  a  girl  just  in  her  "teens,"  but  I  can 
tell  how  proud  I  was  the  first  time  I  was  taken 
to  his  rooms.  The  thought  of  seeing  and  speaking 
to  the  "  Prisoner  of  Ham,"  the  hero  of  so  many 
adventures,  filled  my  heart  with  rapture.  Nor 
were  my  romantic  anticipations  disappointed.  My 
youthful  imagination  saw  in  him  another  Napoleon, 
destined  to  inaugurate  a  new  era  of  glory  and 
splendour  for  France.  Alas !  vain  glory,  cruel 
splendour,  so  soon  to  be  crushed  and  buried  under 
the  shame  and  horrors  of  1870! 

On  the  tenth  day  of  December,  1848,  Prince 
Louis  Napoleon  by  an  overpowering  majority  was 
created  President  of  the  Republic.  The  Palace  of 
the  Elys^e  was  to  be  his  residence.  This  palace 
at  one  time  belonged  to  my  grandfather,  and  with 
54 


THE    REVOLUTION    OF    1848 

les    Neurits  d'Artois,   Mont  de   Marsau,  and  the 
beautiful   chateau   ol    La    Mothe    Saint    II 
formed  part  of  the  Murat  claims  against  the  French 
Government 

Prince  Louis  Napoleon  as  President  a 
Emperor  is  too  well  known  in  England  for  me  to 
attempt  to  describe  him.  At  all  events  not  the 
outward  man.  I  may  Speak  of  him  as  I  knew  him 
in  those  early  clays  of  his  career,  when  although 
heir  to  the  great  nam--  of  Napoleon,  a  legend  in 

If,  the  Prince  found  systematic  opp<  i  in  all 

the  higher  cl  of  society,  who  persisted  in  see- 

ing in  him  only  the  adventurer  of  Strasburg  and 
Boulogne.  Prince  Louis  Napoleon's  smile  was 
deep  and  sad,  giving  one  the  feeling  of  great 
kindness   and    gentlene  His  eyes    l6oked  far 

away  into  the  shadowy  unseen.  1  [e  spoke  slowly 
and  softly,  as  if  talking  to  himself  and  listening  to 
his  own  thoughts  rather  than  to  the  voices  around 
him.  lie  had  a  firm  will,  yet  at  times  was 
yielding  almost  to  weakness.  I  [e  judged  men 
and  made  use  of  them,  hut  treated  them  with 
slight  consideration.  Very  reserved,  he  spoke 
little,  and  held  that  in  politics,  as  in  war,  your 
greatest  force  lies  in  concealing  your  plans  of 
attack  from  the  enemy.  Alone,  without  allies  or 
money,  he  fought  his  battle.  Alone,  with  the  aid 
ot  his  try  .i\k\  friend,  the  Duke  de  Persigny, 

whose  devotion  and  intelligence  in  the  service  of 
his  master  were  worth)-  of  the  highest  praise, 

55 


MY  MEMOIRS 

The  Duke  de  Persigny's  real  name  was 
Victor  Failin,  but  this  is  unimportant,  as  he  was 
always  known  as  de  Persigny.  He  had  entered 
the  French  army  in  1828,  but  was  expelled  for 
insubordination  in  1831.  He  won  the  favour  of 
Louis  Napoleon  and  had  the  chief  hand  in  the 
affairs  of  Strasburg  (1836)  and  Boulogne  (1840) 
where  he  was  arrested  and  condemned  to  twenty 
years'  imprisonment.  He  strenuously  supported 
his  patron  in  1848  and  1851,  and  became  Minister 
of  the  Interior.  From  1855  to  i860  he  was 
ambassador  to  England,  and  he  was  a  senator 
until  the  fall  of  the  Empire. 

The  President  of  the  Republic,  the  Princess 
Mathilde,  her  brother  Prince  Napoleon,  Prince 
Lucien  Bonaparte,  who  lived  and  died  in  England, 
and  his  brother  Prince  Pierre  Bonaparte,  were  all 
first  cousins  of  my  father's  ;  and  according  to  an 
old  French  custom  the  children  of  first  cousins 
give  their  elders  the  title  of  Uncle  and  Aunt. 
This  form  of  address  is  called  la  mode  de 
Bretagne  to  distinguish  it  from  the  ordinary 
uncle  and  aunt.  Of  these  relatives  it  was  the 
Princess  Mathilde  that  I  saw  most.  From  the 
time  of  our  arrival  in  Paris  she  took  a  kindly 
interest  in  me,  and  I  spent  most  of  my  hours  at 
her  mansion  in  the  Rue  de  Courcelles. 

On  the  10th  of  December,  day  of  the  election, 
Paris  was  in  almost  as  excited  a  state  as  we  were 
ourselves.  The  vote  was  a  national  acclamation. 
56 


THE    REVOLUTION    OF    L848 

Out  of  seven  and  a  halt"  millions  of  votes  recorded, 

and  a  half  millions  were  given  in  favour 

ol  Louis  Napoleon.     Cavaignac  re<  I  barely  a 

million  and  a  halt".  Laic  in  the  evening  we  were 
told  by  some  one  coming  from  the  Place  Venddme 
that  the  square  was  crowded  with  tin-  people,  some 
of  whom  had  collected  quantities  of  voting  paj 

with  Cavaignac's  name  on  them  to  scatter  at  the 

t  ol  the  column,  tokens  of  the  humble  homage 
of  the  nation  to  the  name  of   Napoleon. 

Political  antagonism  frequently  manifests  itself 
In  a  second  generation.  Many  years  later  than 
this  [August  [868],  when  General  de  Cavaignac's 
son  was  a  young  collegian,  he  refused  to  accept 
a  prize  from  the  hand  of  the  Prince  Imperial, 
who  was  distributing  the  awards  at  the  Lycde 
Bonaparte  to  successful  students  in  the  General 
Competition  between  the  Public  Schools.  This 
insult  came  as  a  severe  blow  to  the  Empress.  It 
was  a  blow  to  her  pride  :  the  first  foreshadowing 
of  the  disasters  that  were  to  com-'. 

The  winter  of  [848-9  left  nothing  very 
remarkable  in  my  mind,  though  it  was  my  first 
winter  in  Paris.  After  the  election  of  the  10th 
December,  we  left  the  Rue  de  Lille  and  moved 
into  a  small  house,  lent  to  us  by  a  friend  of  my 
father's,  situated  in  the  Rue  d'Anjou  St.  Honore. 
Iler<-  we  were  nearer  tin-  Rue  de  Courcelles, 
where  most  ot  my  time  was  spent 

The  spring    ()j    1  S49  brought  the  cholera   with 

57 


MY   MEMOIRS 

it :  one  of  the  most  violent  epidemics  I  have 
known.  The  mortality  was  very  great.  Paris 
was  in  mourning.  People  crowded  the  stations, 
all  hurrying  away  from  the  plague-stricken  city. 
My  father  was  unable  to  leave  on  account  of  his 
duties  at  the  Chamber,  but  I  went  with  my  mother 
to  the  Pavilion  de  Breteuil — a  sure  refuge  from 
melancholy,  if  not  from  cholera. 

The  Pavilion  de  Breteuil,  the  summer  residence 
of  the  Princess  Mathilde,  was  situated  in  the  park 
of  St.  Cloud,  and  formed  part  of  this  domain  be- 
longing to  the  State.  It  stood  on  the  side  of  a  hil^ 
near  one  of  the  gates  of  the  park — the  one  leading 
to  the  road  called  Route  de  Versailles,  and  immedi- 
ately facing  the  old  manufactory  of  Sevres.  On 
the  other  side,  its  pretty  gardens  ran  sloping  down 
almost  to  the  banks  of  the  Seine. 

The  house,  of  no  particular  style,  was  a  long 
and  rather  low  building,  only  one  room  deep,  the 
dining-room  and  library  forming  the  two  ends  of 
the  house,  their  length  running  the  depth,  whilst 
the  drawing-room,  boudoir  and  the  Princess 
Mathilde's  chamber  formed  the  middle,  the  great 
dining-room  opening  into  a  large  hall  that  ran 
back  of  the  boudoir  and  bedroom.  At  one  end  of 
the  hall  a  wide  staircase  led  to  the  first  floor. 

A  few  yards  from  the  house  stood  a  building 
which  was  turned  into  a  studio,  where  most  of 
our  day  was  spent,  the  Princess  being  devoted 
to  painting.  After  breakfast,  usually  at  eleven 
58 


THE    REVOLUTION    OF    1848 

o'clock,  \'.  10k  ourselves  to  the  atelier.     The 

Princess  painted:  she  was  doing  the  head  of  .m 
Italian    model.       I     mte    de    Nieuwerkerki 
Directeur  du  Musde  d(     Be  lux  Arts,  who  was  a' 
a  sculptor  of  great  merit,  was  modelling  my  bust. 
Madame  Desprez,  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  hous< 
hold,  read  aloud,  and  I  can  sec  myself,  as  I  write, 
I  erched  on  a  high  table,  cramped  and  uncomfort- 
able, yet  afraid  to  move — almost  afraid  to  breathe 
— lest  1  should  lose  the  pose.      How  glad    I    was 
to  hear  the  carriage  wheels  and  the  clock  striking 
three,  telling  me  1  was  free  till  the  morrow! 

h  day  when  weather  allowed,  we  drove  or 
rode  in  the  park  or  environs.  I  liked  our  long 
drives  to  Versailles,  or  Ville  d'Avray,  or  Marnes. 
More  often  we  went  to  Meudon,  the  residence  of 
Prince  J^rdme,  the  Princess  Mathilde's  lather. 
The  woods  of  Meudon  join  those  of  Verrieresand 
Clamart  and  are  some  of  the  prettiest  in  the 
environs  of  Paris.  Best  of  all,  1  loved  my  morn- 
ing walks  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  or  more  often 
my  rambles  in  the  park  of  St.  Cloud. 

The  Princess  never  made  her  appearance  till 
breakfast  :  we  were  allowed  to  spend  our  mornings 

we  liked.  At  seven  o'clock,  one  of  the  maids 
brought  a  cup  of  cafi  au  lait,  drew  back  the  heavy 
curtains  and  opened  my  window  to  the  soft  mi  tru- 
ing air.  My  room  overlooked  the  garden,  and 
from  my  window  the  view  was  .i  mass  of  flowers 
with  the  dark  trees  beyond.     The  perfumed  air 

59 


MY  MEMOIRS 

seemed  to  invite  me  to  sleep  again,  and  so  I  was 
often  late  for  our  run  through  the  woods. 
Madame  Desprez,  M.  de  Nieuwerkerke,  myself, 
and  any  guests  staying  at  Breteuil  formed  the 
joyous  band  that  ventured  forth  at  that  early  hour 
in  pursuit  of  pleasure.  Days  and  weeks  rolled  on 
thus — August  melted  into  September,  and  soon 
autumn  tints  gave  the  glorious  colouring  that 
bronzes  the  vivid  brightness  of  green  summer. 

St.  Cloud  was  enfUe.  It  was  the  week  of  the 
Great  Fair,  held  in  the  public  part  of  the  park. 
It  was  our  pleasure  on  these  occasions  to  mix 
with  the  crowd.  The  organs  grinding,  drums 
beating,  flutes  playing,  women  singing,  children 
shouting,  men  calling  out  their  wares  to  sell — all 
the  confusion  and  discordant  din  delighted  me. 
Well  I  remember  the  booths  filled  with  dolls, 
gingerbread  men  and  women,  crackers  and 
clowns  ;  and  the  gipsy  who  told  my  fortune  for 
the  piece  of  money  with  which  I  crossed  her 
hand  !  How  I  longed  for  a  ride  in  the  merry-go- 
round  on  horse  or  in  boat !  How  I  longed  to  join 
in  the  fun,  often  echoing  the  wish,  "  Ah !  if  I 
were  only  the  daughter  of  a  charcoal  burner  ! " 

One  morning   in   late    October    the    Princess 

Mathilde  decided  on  driving  to  Enghien  to  visit 

Mademoiselle  de  Courbonne,    a  very  old  friend, 

who  had  taken  a  villa  on  the  borders  of  the  lake. 

The  drive  was  a  long  one.     The  Princess,  M.  de 

Nieuwerkerke  and  myself,  with  barouche  and 
60 


THE    REVOLUTION    OF    L848 

post    horses,    left     Breteuil     about    nin  k, 

arriving  .it    Enghien  just    in    time    for  a   tweh 
o'clock  d6je\  '  urchette.     After  breakfast 

we  walked  to  the  Chateau  de  St.  Gratien,  visited 

the:  chateau  itself,  and  also  a  small  pavilion  just 
on:  grounds,    which    had    at    one    tim 

mged  to  the  famous  Nicolas  Catinat.  The 
Princess  was  delighted  with  Enghien — so  prettily 
seated  at  the  foot  ol  Montmorency,  with  the  lake 
and  all  its  surroundings.  She  could  talk  of 
nothing  else  during  our  journey  home,  and, 
indeed,  before  we  reached  Breteuil,  she  had  made- 
up  her  mind  that  St.  Gratien  and  Catinat's  sunny 
t    should    be    her  At    St.    Gratien,    when    it 

became  her  property,  she  entertained  a  constant 
succession  ol  friends  throughout  the  whole 
summer.  It  was  her  greatest  joy  thus  to  receive 
and  retain  her  guests. 

I  have  written  of  Breteuil  as  I  knew  it  for  so 
many  years.  What  is  it  now?  1S70  left  it  a  ruin 
without  rooi  or  windows- its  walls  ribbed  with  the 
cannon  balls  of  the  enemy.  I  fancy  the  pavilion 
has  been  restored,  more  lucky  than  the  Chateau 
ilc  St.  Cloud,  still,  in  the  middle  of  its  pasture's,  a 
mass  of  ruins,  throwing  .1  sad  gloom  over  wh.it 
was  once  one  of  the  gayest  and  brightest  scenes 
ot  the  country  round  Paris. 

The  autumn  found  us  once  more  in  the  Rue 
d'Anjou.  My  mother  was  still  in  very  delicate 
health,    not   able   to   bear   fatigue   of  any   kind,    so 

01 


MY   MEMOIRS 

that,  except  when  staying  with  friends  at  country 
houses,  I  was  taken  out  entirely  by  the  Princess 
Mathilde.  The  first  week  in  November  we  spent 
at  Grosbois,  the  seat  of  Prince  de  Wagram,  to 
fete  the  St.  Hubert  and  the  St.  Charles,  3rd  and  4th 
of  November,  in  hunting  with  the  famous  hounds. 
It  was  a  very  cold  month  of  November.  The 
room  I  occupied  was  large  and  lofty.  The  wood 
fire,  with  huge  smoky  logs,  threw  out  no  flame 
and  no  warmth.  The  furniture  was  old-fashioned, 
and  to  me  uncanny.  The  cold  gloom  of  the 
room  depressed  me ;  I  felt  chilled,  morally  and 
physically.  To  add  to  my  discomfort  the  maid 
had  forgotten  to  supply  me  with  matches,  and  in 
this  well-regulated  establishment,  by  the  Princess 
de  Wagram's  orders,  nothing  forgotten  to  be 
asked  for  in  the  morning  could  be  had  after 
twelve  o'clock.  I  had  to  borrow  the  needful  from 
a  neighbouring  room,  and  somehow  I  got  into 
my  evening  dress.  Suddenly  I  found  myself 
conveyed  by  somebody  into  a  long  dining-room 
with  a  thousand  lights,  a  table  glittering  with 
gold  and  silver,  and  a  dozen  servants  standing 
round,  some  in  the  gorgeous  Wagram  liveries, 
others  in  black  silk  stockings  and  knee  breeches 
with  ribbon  bows.  For  a  moment  I  was  dazzled 
by  the  splendour  of  it  all,  but  I  soon  recovered, 
and  found  myself  chatting  gaily  to  the  men  on 
either  side  of  me.  This  was  my  first  day  at 
Grosbois. 
62 


THE    REVOLUTION    OF    1848 

The  Princess  de  Waerram  was  a  Mademoiselle 

:v.     She  v.  irt,  inclin  be  stout,  with 

a  pleasant  t  lark  hair,  and  small  dark  c\ 

like  two  big  jet  beads.  Such  she  appeared  to  me 
when  I  first  saw  her  with  her  baby  girl  in  her 
arms.      She   had   two  other  children,  a  daughti 

months  older   than   myself,  and   a  son  a  year 
<>r  two  younger.     Prino  Wagram  was  very 

fair,  tall,  with  rather  a  German  face.  His  son, 
Prince  Alexander,  was  dark,  like  his  mother  and 
all  the  Clarys,  but  the  girls  in  face  and  form  were 
absolute  Wagrams,  or  rather,  I  should  say, 
Berthiers,  for  Berthier  is  the  family  name. 
Malcy,  the  eldest,  who  was  destined  to  become 
my  sister-in-law,  always  objected  to  being  called 
anything  but  "  Mam'selle  Berthier,"  as  she  play- 
fully called  herself. 

The  Prince  was  not  a  courtier  or  a  ^reat 
favourite  at  the  Elysee,  though  on  friendly  terms 
with  the  Prince  President.  He  had  sympathies 
with  the  Royalists,  many  of  whom  were  intimate 
friends  and  relations,  such  as  the  de  Mailles,  who, 
like  many  others,  never  rallied  to  the  Empire. 

Princess  de  Wagram's  three  brothers  were  my 
father's  most  intimate  friends,  the  youngest, 
Nicolas,    more  ially.      lie   lived    in  the    Rue 

d'Anjou,    quite     near    us,    such    a  pretty   bachelor 

idence,  entre  cour  et  jardin.  The  house  was 
furnished  with  all  the  luxury  that  great  wealth 
could   give,    and    with    all    the    taste   of  an    artist. 

"3 


MY  MEMOIRS 

Pictures  of  old  masters  covered  the  walls — some 
of  Greuze's  heads  were  my  delight.  Baron  Clary 
had  bought  two  of  these  from  the  widow  of  my 
father's  elder  brother.  Two  heads  of  children — 
one,  such  a  lovely  face,  was  "  Terror,"  the  other, 
with  golden  locks,  "  Joy,"  both  beautiful.  Nicolas 
Clary  was  very  proud  of  his  pictures,  his  house, 
his  garden,  and  his  foot — the  smallest  foot,  I  sup- 
pose, a  man  ever  had.  He  boasted  one  day  that 
he  could  wear  my  shoe,  which  was  not  a  very 
large  one.  We  had  a  bet.  He  certainly  put  it 
on  and  walked  about  the  room  :  he  won  his  bet, 
but  I  doubt  if  he  could  have  worn  my  shoe  all 
day.  The  garden,  a  very  large  one  for  the  centre 
of  Paris,  ran  back  to  the  Rue  Romford,  a  street 
now  long  disappeared.  Like  many  others,  it 
made  way  in  later  years  for  Baron  Ilaussmann's 
improvements.  The  Boulevard  Haussmann  was 
cut  right  through  this  part  of  Paris,  sweeping 
everything  that  came  in  its  way,  and  taking  a 
slice  of  Baron  Clary's  garden,  for  which  the  Ville 
de  Paris,  at  the  decision  of  the  Prefect  de  la  Seine 
and  the  Municipal  Council,  offered  him  a  very 
poor  remuneration.  The  little  man's  anger  knew 
no  bounds. 

In  1848,  when  Prince  Louis  Napoleon  came 
from  England  with  small  resources  to  fight  the 
great  battle  for  the  Napoleon  dynasty,  Clary 
proved  himself  a  friend  indeed.  He  was  one  of 
the  very  few  willing  to  risk  fortune  as  well  as 
64 


THE    REVOLUTION    OF    L848 

leisure  in  the  int  of  the  cau         lie  lent  .a 

different  time  of   money 

the  l'rin  In  the  day  ry,  then,  when  at 

List,    after    the    sharp    Strug  the    Prince    w 

elected    Pn  it,    Clary    was    no    stranger,    and 

was  able  years  after  to  d  M.  Haussmann  by 

laying  his  claim  before  tin-  Emperor;  with  the 
success  that  an  ample  compensation  was  made 
to  him  for  i  ver)  foot  of  ground  taken.  But  the 
boulevard  had  to  run  its  cours  ro  change  the 

plans  would  have  been  next  to  impossible. 

September  4,  iyoi. 

My  pen  has  been  silent  tor  some  days  ;  some- 
times—  I  cannot  tell  why — I  cannot  write,  I  cannot 
think,  I  cannot  remember,  I  cannot  put  two  ideas 
together. 

The  ill-fated  date  at  the  top  <>f  my  page  brii 
back  only  too  vividly  all   my   recollections,  and    I 
must  pause  in   the  narration   of  the   past   to   write 
of  a  nearer  past.      The  4th  of  September,    1S70 — 
how    can    I    tell    t:  mories,  the    painful 

elings,  that  overwhelm  me? — a  date,  only  a  date, 
and  it  all  comes  back  to  me  as  if  it  were  yesterday. 
The  new.-,  of  the  battle  of  Sedan,  the  sleepless 
nights,  King  all  dressed  on  our  beds:  the  sudd 
order  to  fly,  brought  by  an  estafette  from  the 
Tuileries  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning:  the  last 
good  bye  to  all  we  loved  :  the  drive  a  Paris 

tot. uch   the   morning   express:   the  rushing    train 

1  65 


MY   MEMOIRS 

carrying  us  on,  on,  far  away  from  Paris,  friends, 
glory,  fortune,  rank — the  steamer  that  waited  to 
bear  us  once  more  into  exile  :  the  clasping  of 
hands  that  might  meet  no  more  and,  last,  one  long 
and  lingering  glance  of  adieu  to  France  as  the 
steamer  sped  on  its  way.  The  picture  is  before 
me  as  I  write.  I  am  no  hypocrite,  I  wish  I 
were  :  I  would  pretend,  as  some  of  us  do,  that  I 
love  England.  No.  I  am  grateful  to  England 
for  the  home  it  has  given  me,  for  the  children 
that  have  blessed  me.  I  admire  England  as  a 
nation  ;  but  the  more  I  am  forced  to  admire,  the 
less  I  love  it.  No  one  who  really  loves  France 
could  honestly  say  he  is  devoted  to  the  English. 
The  few  friends  I  have  had  the  good  fortune  to 
make  here  in  England  are  very  dear  to  me,  and  I 
trust  they  and  all  who  read  these  lines  may  under- 
stand and  forgive  me  when  I  add  that  not  one 
day,  not  one  hour,  for  twenty-five  years  have  I 
ceased  to  regret,  to  love,  and  long  for  my  country. 
Why  have  I  remained  in  England  all  these  years? 
Those  who  care  to  know  must  have  patience  with 
me  and  follow  me  through  these  pages  to  the  end 
of  my  story.  I  will  take  up  my  life  to-morrow 
where  I  left  it  a  few  days  since — I  have  no  heart 
for  it  to-day. 


66 


I   HAPTER    IV 

DAME    DES    Ai    . 

Princess  Mathilde — Mj  is  sent  as  Ambassador  to  Italy 

— I  take  '  Giraud 

Courcelles — Prin  e     Demidoff   -The     Princess     and     her 

friends — Madame   de  Solms 

One    of    our    quiet    evenings    at    the    Rue    de 
Courcelles     comes     back     to    my     mind.        The 
Princess  Mathilde  in  her  particular  arm-chair  n 
the  fire  with  two  or  thre  ■  of  the  great  wits  of  tl 
tim<-  around  her,  amusing  her  with  their  brilliant 
ition  ;  the  old    Baronne  de   Rediny,    who 
had  been  with  the  Princess  .since  her  school-da) 
knitting  in  a  corner  half  asleep,  waking  new  and 
then    with  a   start  as   a  laugh    or   a   loud    voice 
roused  her;  Comte  d  ■  Nieuwerkerke,  seated  at  a 
long   table  which  ran  along  one  end  of  the   room, 
drawing    a    monogram    and    design    for   a    pie 
"t    embroidery;    Giraud,    tl        .    ll-known    pastel 
painter,  near   him   and  working  with  him  in  the 
sketch    they   wei  th    attempting;  near    them 

Ari;  sharp,  so  witty,  and  so  amusing,   was 

composing  odds  and  ends  of  rhymes,  taking  off 
all  around  him  and  keeping  up  at  the  same  time 

(l7 


MY   MEMOIRS 

lively  repartees  with  Madame  Desprez  and  the 
Ratoniskis,  two  Polish  friends  of  the  Princess — 
man  and  wife ;  and  last,  myself  and  my  fifteen 
summers  on  a  stool  at  the  Princess's  feet,  listen- 
ing, wondering  and  admiring,  with  all  the 
enthusiasm,  all  the  sauvagerie  of  my  nature.  It 
must  have  been  on  such  an  evening  that  I  was 
described,  by  one  of  those  vicious-tongued  wits 
who  never  open  their  mouth  without  taking  a 
piece  out  of  some  one,  as  looking  like  "  a  turkey 
swallowing  walnuts." 

The  winter  of  1849  my  father  was  sent  as 
Ambassador  to  Italy,  where  he  remained  till  late 
in  the  spring  of  1850.  I  am  under  the  impression 
that,  being  Pretender  to  the  throne  of  Naples,  he 
found  his  position  rather  a  difficult  one  at  Turin, 
and  he  asked  to  be  recalled,  although  the  King, 
Victor  Emmanuel,  treated  him  with  marked  favour, 
as  did  Azeglio,  the  then  Premier  at  the  Court  of 
Sardinia  ;  but  this  special  favour  created  great 
jealousies  among  the  representatives  of  other 
Powers. 

During  my  father's  absence  from  Paris,  my 
mother  only  attended  the  official  receptions  and 
the  dinners  and  soirees  tres  intimes  at  the  Elysee. 
To  these  I  accompanied  her,  but  with  this  excep- 
tion I  went  with  the  Princess  Mathilde  every- 
where and  spent  my  days  at  her  house.  We 
generally  passed  our  mornings  in  her  studio,  a 
delightful  room  on  the  first  floor,  leading  out  of 
68 


NOTRE    DAME    DES    AIMS 

her  boudoir,  a  room  partly  atelier    partly  winter 
irden.      I  w  is  learning  to  draw,  and  Giraud  was 
giving  me  le;  His  despair  was  comic,  fori 

in.nl-  in-  progress,  notwithstanding  all  his  efforts. 
My  drawing,  like  my  singing,  proved  a  failure. 
Indeed,  I  was  no  -cuius,  and  my  only  talent,  if 
talent  it  can  be  called,  was  in  dancin  In  this  I 
think  I  may  say  I  excell<  I.  The  Princess  was 
inting  my  portrait— she  fancied  painting  me 
as  a  nun.     TIk-  i  try  costume  was  procured  ; 

all  around  me  1  that  it  suited  me  to  perfec- 

m.      In  truth  it  did,  although  I  never  realized  it 
.it  the  time:   1  have  sin  The  head-dress  of  the 

nun's  me  completely  hid  the  worst  feature  in 

my  face — a  very  ugly  double  chin.      The  portrait 
i  finished,  beautifully  done  and  very  like.      It 
was    presented    to    some    one.       I     never    knew 
whom. 

Princess  Mathilde's  evening  receptions  were 
of  the  very  few  remaining  of  the  kind  which  in 
old  days— far  older  days  than  those  of  which  I  am 
writing  were  termed  "salons."  No  salon  such 
as  I  speak  ot  exists  in  this  fin  de  sicclc.  \\  e 
must  live  with  our  times:  chivalry,  gallantry, 
sentiment,   powder  and    i  are    things    ot    the 

p.ist.  The  perfect  deference  and  respect  ot 
speech  and  manner  that  characterized  another 
generation  would  be  out  of  place  in  the.se  days  ol 
pr<  >gress  when  w<  >men  ride  1  >icycles,  make  speeches 
to  crowded  assemblies,  take   long  drinks,  smoke 

69 


MY  MEMOIRS 

their  cigarettes,  and  are  anything  and  everything 
but  womanly. 

The  Princess  received  in  the  old-fashioned 
way,  with  all  the  grace  and  charm  that  so  particu- 
larly belong  to  her.  She  was  at  home  to  all  her 
friends  every  evening,  and  was  surrounded  by  all 
the  literary  and  artistic  world  who  had  any  claim 
to  merit.  She  was  often  called  by  her  favourites 
by  the  pretty  name  of  Notre  Dame  des  Arts,  and 
so  much  did  she  win  the  loyalty  of  her  friends 
that  they  were  referred  to  as  being,  not  Bona- 
partists,  but  Matildians.  Her  manners,  so  simple 
and  unaffected,  so  full  of  youth  and  happiness 
and  sympathy,  threw  a  magnetic  influence  on  all 
around  her.  My  girlhood's  love  for  her  was 
almost  worship.  Many  of  the  happiest  hours  of 
my  life  were  spent  in  the  Rue  de  Courcelles. 

Dignified  as  Imperial  Highness,  the  niece  of 
two  emperors,  and  the  cousin  of  a  third,  she  had 
more  illustrious  family  connections  than  the  Em- 
peror himself,  and  she  had  the  ambition  and  the 
faculty  to  rule.  She  must  have  been  uncommonly 
beautiful  in  her  young  womanhood  ;  she  was  still 
very  handsome  when  I  knew  her  first,  and  she 
always  remained  a  woman  of  distinguished  pres- 
ence. Unquestionably  she  was  the  most  cultured 
and  talented  of  all  the  Bonapartes  ;  and  she  was 
probably  one  of  the  most  cultured  women  in 
France  during  her  time.  Her  salon  was  a  court 
in  itself.  Begun  during  the  reign  of  Louis 
70 


NOTRE    DAME    DES    ARTS 

I  it    had    no    equal    iii    the    nineteenth 

century  for  length  ol  .For  fifty  years 

it    v.  n    important   institution,    the    home    and 

centre  of  Parisian  intell  tamped  with  her  own 

strongly- marked  individuality.  Her  great  wealth 
enabled  her  to  entertain  lavishly,  and  it  was  her 

ire  to  extend  unlimited  hospitality,  and  t<> 
make  her  home   the  meeting  pi  I   the  choice 

spirits  oi  the  day. 

I     h  i\  id     that    she     was     the     niece     of 

two  Emperors.  These  were  Napoleon  1  and 
Nicholas  I.  1  during  her  lifetime  Fate  placed 
two  crowns  within  her  reach,  yet  never  allowed 
her  to  wear  one.  She  did  not  regret  the 
irony.       In   her    independence    ol    character    and 

inality,  she  was  satisfied  with  her  rdle  as 
patron  of  the  Arts.  During  her  youth  she  spent 
much  of  her  time  in  the  Court  of  Wurtemberg, 
under  the  tutelage  of  that  admirable  woman 
Queen  Catherine.  She  was  a  favourite  ol  Queen 
Hortense,  whose  hospitality  she  enjoyed  at  the 
Castle  ol  Arenenberg,  and  who  looked  forward  to 
a  marriage  between  Princess  Mathilde  and  her 
own  son  Louis  Napoleon.  In  the  opinion  of 
many  it  was  a  misfortune  tor  France  that  this 
ambition  on  the  part  of  Queen  Hortense  u.is  not 
fulfilled.  But  while  Louis  Napoleon  was  lan- 
guishing in  the  fortress  of  Mam,  a  "prisoner  for 
life,"  Princess  Mathilde  in  her  sunny  youth  in 
Tuscany,  with    her   chirms   ol    mind    and    person, 


MY  MEMOIRS 

attracted  many  suitors.  Among  them  was  the 
heir  of  the  wealthy  Marquis  Aquado,  who  prof- 
fered tens  of  millions  if  his  son  should  succeed  in 
winning  the  favour  of  the  niece  of  the  great 
Napoleon.  Young  Aquado  was  not  successful. 
Refused  by  Princess  Mathilde,  he  transferred  his 
attentions  to  the  beautiful  Eugenie  de  Montijo, 
and  lived  to  shed  tears  when  he  learned  that 
Louis  Napoleon  had  crossed  his  path. 

Whatever  might  have  been  her  feelings 
towards  Count  Aquado,  the  Princess  Mathilde 
had  already  manifested  her  preference.  She  had 
Russian  sympathies,  and  her  girlish  fancy  had 
been  caught  by  the  strikingly  handsome  person- 
ality of  the  son  of  the  Russian  Ambassador  to 
Rome  and  Florence.  Count  Anatole  Nicolaie- 
wich  Demidoff,  Tuscan  Prince  di  San  Donato, 
had  other  recommendations  than  his  rank  and  his 
handsome  figure.  He  was  heir  to  the  fabulous 
wealth  of  the  mines  of  Ural ;  he  had  natural 
talent,  a  pretty  taste  in  literature,  an  appreciation 
of  art,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  he  was  deeply 
in  love.  Their  betrothal  had  the  sanction  of  the 
Emperor  Nicholas,  and  their  marriage  took  place 
in  Florence  on  the  ist  of  November,  1840. 

The  union  was  not  a  happy  one.  Prince 
Demidoff,  who  was  himself  something  of  a  Don 
Juan,  was  afflicted  with  an  extremely  jealous 
disposition,  and  he  treated  her  with  great  cruelty. 

The   painful    position    came   to   a   crisis    in    the 

72 


NOTRE    DAME    DES    ARTS 

eption-rooms  of  th  I      lato  P  il  u  e,  the 

ene  of  a  brilliant  gathering,  when  he  suddenly, 
in  a  fit  of  savage  and  unreasonable  jeal  >usy,  str  de 
up  to  his  j  ;  wife  and  slapped  her  on  both 
checks  in  a  manner  so  truly  <    i  i  publicly 

insulting,  that  forgi\  was  imj  !c.      The 

Princess  hastened  to  her  uncle  in  St.  Petersburg. 
The  Emperor  Nicholas  insisted  upon  the  inevit 
iration,  and  Demidoff,  whose  income  was 
then  ,£90,000  a  year,  was  ordered  to  pay  his 
wife  ,£8,000  annually,  and  to  abstain  from  going 
anywhere  within  a  hundred  miles  of  where  she 
might  I>e  staying. 

This  jointure,  added  to  her  private  means, 
which  were  considerable,  and  her  annual  allow- 
ance of  £"20,000  from  the  French  Civil  List, 
enabled  her  to  support  many  charities  with  her 
bounty,  to  keep  up  a  luxurious  household,  and 
extend  her  hospitalities  with  a  lavish  hand. 

Personally  she  was  well  equipped  as  a  leader 
of  intellectual  ety.     Her  ability  as  a  painter 

was  far  beyond  that  of  an  amateur,  and  her  criti- 
cisms on  art  subjects  were  always  searching  and 
lull  oi  knowledge.  Her  collections  of  pictures 
and    sculptures    gave    evidence    of    her    cultured 

te.      Her  private  library  was  one  of  the  I 
of  its  kind  in  Paris.     Without  being  obtrusive  or 
dictatorial,   she   shone    in  conversation,   and    her 
opinions  on  .ill  subjects  v.    re  always  listened  to 
with    n    pect.      Many  are   the   witt)    sayings,   the 

i  i 


MY   MEMOIRS 

amusing  anecdotes,  which  every  one  who  knew 
her  remembers  and  associates  with  her  name. 
One  subject  the  Princess  banished — politics.  In- 
deed, no  politician,  as  such,  found  favour  in  her 
eyes.  It  was  not  till  after,  or  about,  the  year 
1852  that  of  necessity  her  receptions  became 
partly  political. 

Although  she  was  at  home  to  her  friends 
every  evening,  her  companions  differed  in  type 
with  the  days  of  the  week.  Sundays  she  reserved 
for  current  invitations  and  new  introductions. 
Tuesdays  were  set  aside  for  the  reception  of 
official  personages,  and  Wednesdays  for  her 
chosen  intimates,  who  were  always  exclusively 
artists.  The  Sunday  soirees  at  the  Rue  de 
Courcelles  were  especially  popular,  attended  by 
crowds  of  distinguished  men  and  women,  whose 
names  remain  familiar  to  a  later  generation.  If  I 
were  asked  to  mention  all  those  whom  I  saw  at 
her  house  I  should  have  to  enumerate  more  than 
half  of  the  celebrities  in  literature,  science,  paint- 
ing, sculpture,  and  music  in  the  days  of  the 
Empire.  But  I  am  neither  a  Goncourt  nor  a  Viel- 
Castel,  and  I  must  refer  my  readers  to  their  more 
ample  chronicles. 

The  large  salon  de  conversation,  whose  walls 
were  hung  with  choice  examples  of  ancient  and 
modern  paintings,  was  always  the  most  densely 
thronged.  Princess  Mathilde  found  little  satis- 
faction in  frivolous  dissipation  and  the  empty 
74 


NOTRE    DAME    DES    ARTS 

hion.     Sh  tion 

to  all  other  pleasun         Her  customary  plac< 
at  th<  fire-place,  where  sh       it  with 

one   of   her   favourite  on    her   lap   or   with 

myself  at  her  feet.      Here  she  would  i         -.<•  in  a 
neral  discussion  with  a  group  of  such   brilliant 
talkei  Edmund    About,     Octave     Feuillet, 

Flaubert,   Taine,   Alp!  Daudet,  and    Parbey 

d'Aurevilly,  who  were  all  of  her  circle,  .1^  were 
Alexandre  Dumas  and  Victor  Hugo.  She  was 
fond  rcisiiv-  her  skill  in  argument  with  snch 

thinkers  as  Ernest  Kenan  and  Monsieur  Caro, 
who  gave  her  nblies  a  tincture  of  philosophy. 

Throphile  Gautii  r  received  the  Princess's  warm- 
est friendship.  The  Goncourt  Sainte  Beuve, 
and  Prosper  Merinne  were  frequently  to  be 
heard  joining  in  the  sparkling  talk  on  Sunda) 
/enings ;  and  on  Wednesdays  one  was  sure  to 
find  among  the  company  of  her  artist  friends 
such  men  as  Hubert,  Giraud,  Corot,  Baudry, 
Fromentin,  or  Arry  Scheffer.  Always,  on  what- 
er   nigfht,   there    .  ithering  of  men   and 

women  of  intellect — idealists,  apostles  of  aestheti- 
m— each  contributing  his  own  personal  note  »>i 
sincerity,  mtiment. 

Princess    Mathilde   encouraged    general    con- 
is  ition    rather    than    tUe-a-tite   interviews,    hut 
often  of  necessity  the  crowded  gathering  would 
he  divided   into  many  groups.     After  a  pause  at 
the  end   ol    a  elis  n  or  anecdote,  or  while   the 

75 


MY   MEMOIRS 

laughter  lingered  after  a  smart  repartee  or  flash 
of  wit,  she  would  rise  and  pass  through  the 
various  rooms,  and  whenever  she  broke  in  upon 
a  conversation  it  was  always  with  a  shaft  of 
sparkling  wit  or  happy  comment.  In  blending 
the  congenial  elements  she  was  greatly  assisted 
by  her  recognized  lover,  Count  de  Nieuwerkerke, 
superintendent  of  Fine  Arts  under  the  Empire, 
tall,  bearded,  handsome,  who  acted  as  a  kind  of 
master  of  ceremonies. 

One  afternoon  the  Princess  was  receiving  in 
the  drawing-room  when  her  favourite  Italian 
greyhound  curvetted  up  to  her  for  her  caress. 
The  pretty  dog  was  gently  rebuked,  but  on 
making  a  second  attempt  was  scolded  more 
warmly.  Some  one  interceded.  "No,  no!" 
said  the  Princess,  "  Chance  is  in  disgrace  to- 
day. All  through  the  night  she  kept  me  awake 
by  jumping  on  my  bed."  She  had  hardly  spoken 
when  Count  Nieuwerkerke  entered  the  room. 
The  greyhound,  greeting  him,  was  reprimanded. 
"Go  away,  you  naughty  dog.  Thanks  to  you,  I 
never  got  a  wink  of  sleep  last  night.  How  dare 
you  jump  on  people's  beds ! "  The  guests  ex- 
changed meaning  glances.  Doubtless  they  were 
engaged  in  making  the  natural  inference. 

Her  guests  as  a  rule  were  carefully  chosen  to 
harmonize.  They  were  guests  whom  every  one 
was  proud   to  meet ;    every  one,  that  is  to  say, 

excepting   Count    Horace   de    Viel-Castel.      But 

76 


NOTRE    DAME    DES    ARTS 

Viel-Castel  was  a  bitter-tongued  cynic,  whom 
nothing  could  wholly  satisfy.  He  disliked 
Giraud,    he   disliked    the    Dumas;    he    obje 

to   the    A  I-!       i  au  ;    the   sight   of  Count 

Laborde  inspired  him  with  insensate  fury,  and 
he  hated  Madame  Desprez  like  the  plague,  and 
called  her  "a  disgrace  to  her  sex'  1  ause  she 
wanted  to  peep  into  the  contents  of  his  Black 
B    >k. 

I  seem  to  have  ignored  that  women  took 
more  than  a  listening  part  in  these  conversations. 
There  were  many  who  added  brilliance  to  the 
play  oi  wit.  The  Princess  de  Metternich  was 
conspicuous.  Madame  Sardou  was  another,  and 
I  should  not  forget  the  Countess  de  Pourtales. 
the    Marquise    de    Contades,    the    Countess    de 

ulaincourt,  Countess  Walewska,  the  three 
sisters  la  Roche- Lambert,1  or  the  Countess  Le 
Hon.  It  is  true,  however,  that  the  salon  de 
ation  was  more  usually  thronged  with 
men  than  women.  Perhaps  this  was  because 
so  few  women,  apart  from  those  I  have  men- 
tioned, were  at  that  time  sincerely  interested  in 
art,  in  culture,  and  in  new  literary  developments. 
"Amongst  the  many  women  one  meets  or  re- 
ceives,' the  Princess  objected  on  one  occasion, 
"how  few  there  are  with  whom  one  can  really 
convei  It  a  woman  were  to  come  in  now,  1 

1  These  three-  sisters  were  the  Countess  de  la  Be'doyere, 
Countess  de  li   Poeze,  and  Madame  de  Valon. 

77 


MY   MEMOIRS 

should  have  to  change  the  subject  of  conversation 
at  once." 

It  followed  that  while  her  men  guests  were 
mostly  to  be  sought  in  the  groups  of  talkers,  the 
women  overflowed  the  music-rooms.  "  What  I 
love  best  about  music  is  the  women  who  listen 
to  it,"  I  overheard  Jules  de  Goncourt  remark 
once,  as  he  stood  under  a  palm  by  the  door  of 
the  music-room.  And  he  expressed  the  feeling 
of  many  of  his  sex. 

Those  who  had  a  preference  for  music  passed 
on  through  other  rooms  to  the  semi-circular  salon, 
where  they  might  listen  to  the  vocal  virtuosities 
of  Adelina  Patti,  or  to  Christine  Nilsson  singing 
some  dreamy  song  of  Sweden,  to  Miolau-Carvalho 
repeating  an  air  from  The  Huguenots,  or  Gardoni 
interpreting  the  melodies  of  Verdi.  That  gifted 
amateur,  Madame  Conneau,  might  be  heard  sing- 
ing "  Son  vergine  vezzosa,"  or  the  Princess's 
orchestra,  directed  by  M.  Sauzay,  would  dis- 
course their  instrumental  music.  Occasionally 
Strauss  himself  would  contribute  to  the  enter- 
tainment, and  more  than  once  the  Abbe  Liszt 
came  with  the  Comtesse  d'Agoult,  who  claimed 
literary  recognition.  Marie  de  Flavigny,  Comtesse 
d'Agoult,  is  perhaps  better  known  by  her  literary 
pseudonym  of  "  Daniel  Stern  "  and  her  authorship 
of  Esquisses  Morales.  She  was  born  in  Frankfurt, 
1805,  and  married  the  Comte  d'Agoult  in  1827, 
but  soon  left  him  for  Liszt,  by  whom  she  had 
78 


NOTRE    DAME    DES    AIM'S 

three  daughtei  The  eldest  of  these  married 
Emile    Ollivier,    th  I    sister    married    the 

Mar  [uis     <  iuy  unl     tl 

Cosima,    was    in    turn    the    wife    ■  i     Hans    von 

1 1  ilow  and    Richard   Wagner. 

(|  Lsionally  the  music  salon  was  converted 
into  .t  theatre,  and  some  comedy,  since  be 
well  known  some  two-part  trifle  by  I  I  ive 
Feuillet  or  Theodore  de  Banville-  would  be 
enacted  to  give  opportunity  to  Coquelin  to  dis- 
play his  marvellous  gifts  of  chara  ition. 
These  theatrical  evenings  were   memorable. 

The  Princess  Mathilde  had  her  imitatoi  .  ol 
course.  Princess  de  Metternich  had  a  separate 
salon  ol  her  own,  and  also  dabbled  in  art  when 
she  had  a  moment's  leisure  from  her  more  lively 
occupations.  Madame  de  Pourtale's  held  re 
ptions,  Comt  ;     Beaumont  occupied  herseli 

seriously  with  literature  and  had  a  literary  salon. 
Madame  de  Solms  painted  miniatures  in  the 
intervals   of  writing   her  romances,  hi-  and 

maga/ine  articles,  and  the  M  irquise  de  Contades 
and,  afterwards,  even  the  Empress  herself  sought 
to  gain  s<  ime  reputati<  in  tor  skill  in  transferring  their 
ideas  to  canvas  or  presenting  portraits  in  pastel. 

Of  these,  Madame  de  Solms  was  the  most 
flattering  ol  imitators.  She  was  also  known  as 
Madame  de  Rute,  and  better  still  as  Madame 
Rattazzi ;  but  I  knew  her  before  she  had  con- 
tused  her  identity  in  a  multiplicity  of  names.     1 

7" 


MY   MEMOIRS 

saw  her  for  the  first  time  at  a  ball  at  the  Hotel 
de  Ville.  She  was  a  very  favourite  niece  of 
Prince  Lucien  Bonaparte,  who  lived  so  long  in 
England  that  he  became  almost  an  Englishman. 
Prince  Lucien,  by  the  way,  was  devoted  to  Queen 
Victoria,  who  was  always  most  gracious  to  him. 
He  had  not  the  right  to  be  addressed  as  Imperial 
Highness,  this  title  being  reserved  to  those  in 
direct  succession  to  the  throne  ;  but  he  always 
said  after  the  downfall  of  the  Empire  that  he  was 
Imperial  Highness  by  the  courtesy  of  the  Queen 
of  England,  who  addressed  him  so  when  writing 
to  him. 

Madame  de  Solms  was  a  very  beautiful 
woman  —  bearing  some  resemblance  to  the 
Princesses  of  the  First  Empire — her  mother  being 
the  daughter  of  the  Emperor  Napoleon's  brother 
Lucien.  She  married  a  Mr.  Wyse,  and  her 
children  have  always  called  themselves  Bonaparte- 
Wyse.  Why  ?  They  could  have  no  possible 
right  to  the  name.  She  was  not  only  beautiful, 
but  very  clever,  a  very  highly-educated  scholar 
(as  were  all  that  branch  of  the  Bonapartes)  and 
bubbling  over  with  the  ready,  sparkling  wit 
that  flows  like  champagne  in  France.  She  was 
slightly  deaf — even  in  those  early  years  of  which 
I  speak — the  first  years  of  the  Second  Empire. 
The  ball  was  at  its  height  when  she  passed  me — 
a  perfect  picture — leaning  on  the  arm  of  her 
uncle  Prince  Lucien,  who  was  with  her  during 
one  of  his  short  stays  in  Paris. 
80 


NOTRE    DAME    DES    AIM'S 

She  was  in  her  way  a  verj  wonderful  woman, 
and  her  i  ireer  was  a  varied  one.     She  contrived 
to  dispose  of  three  husbands  of  different  national 
iti<       I    »unt  Frederick  Solms,  who  was  a  German  ; 
Urbano  Rattazzi,  the  eminent  Italian  -  man; 

and  ultimately  Senor  Luis  de  Rute,  ex-Secretary 
of  State  in  Spain.  She  offended  the  Emperor  1>\ 
the  publication  of  her  book,  Les  Mariages  dune 
(  r/<Vc\  in  which  slit-  seriously  libelled  M.  Schneid(  r 
the  it   iron-master  and  Walewski's  successor 

at  the  Chamber.  She  made  an  enemy  of  the 
Empn  is,  dabbled  too  dangerously  in  politics,  and 
Id  a  literary  and  political  salon  to  which  many 
persons  not  in  favour  at  Court  were  admitted.  In 
these  and  other  ways,  her  conduct  displeased  their 
Majesties;  so  much  so  that  she  was  exiled  from 
I'. iris  and  struck  off  the  Emperor's  list  of  annuitants 
with  the  loss  of  ,£2,000  a  year.  At  one  time 
Madame  de  S<  '1ms  d<  clared  her  ambition  to  become 
the  Mad  une  de  Stael  of  the  Second  Empire,  but 
it  was  in  vain  that  she  piled  up  volumes  oi  history, 
poetry,  romance,  travel,  and  politics.  Few  ol  her 
literary  productions  were  read;  and  I  suspect  all 
are  forgotten.  Nevertheless,  her  talents  were 
considerable  and  versatile.  While  editing  the 
Nouvelle  Revue  Internationale  she  was  acting  in 
plays  written  by  herself  and  adding  to  her 
reputation  as  an  accomplished  musician.  She 
rivalled  Madame  de  Mirbel  in  the  delicate  art  of 
miniature  painting,  and  her  admirers  went  so  tar 
as  to  say  that  she  would  have  equalled  Meissonier 

F  8l 


MY   MEMOIRS 

himself  in  genre  painting  had  she  chosen  to  exert 
herself. 

Before  she  committed  the  offences  which  led  to 
her  dismissal  from  the  Court,  the  Emperor  once 
said  of  her:  "  My  pretty  cousin  is  the  perfection  of 
all  the  virtues.  She  has  them  all — the  good  and 
the  bad,"  and  he  added,  "  She  plays  charmingly 
with  the  fan,  but  also,  unfortunately,  with  the  pen. 
It  is  pardonable  that  she  commits  herself  to  poetry, 
but  she  is  also  getting  herself  talked  about,  and 
that  is  much  more  serious." 

Ultimately  the  prohibition  against  her  ap- 
pearance in  Paris  society  was  removed  and  her 
annuity  restored  to  her.  When  I  met  her  she 
congratulated  herself  that  she  was  "  no  longer 
contraband."  I  met  her  once  again  at  Aix  les 
Bains,  where  I  spent  a  few  weeks  with  my  father, 
who  had  there  a  conference  of  a  political  character 
with  Cavour.  It  was  at  the  Casino.  On  leaving 
Paris,  Mme.  de  Solms  took  a  villa  on  the  borders 
of  the  Lac  du  Bourget,  where  she  lived  surrounded 
by  her  little  court  of  followers.  The  evening  of 
which  I  speak  she  wore  a  beautiful  lace  skirt, 
the  design  of  which  embraced  a  number  of  bees 
— the  Imperial  Bee;  while  she  was  conversing, 
some  one  dexterously  cut  out  several  of  these 
from  the  back  of  her  dress,  leaving  great  holes  in 
the  valuable  lace.  Who  did  it,  and  whether  by 
order,  I  never  heard.  I  only  knew  her  "  by 
sight,"  as  she  was  not  supposed  to  be  recognized 
at  Court.  On  her  marriage  with  Rattazzi,  she 
82 


NOTRE    DAME    DES    ARTS 

soon  became  as  celebrated  in   Ital. 

Si       i  I    the    farm  >u      "  Matindes    d\ 

les    B  When    she    man  Rattazzi    her 

•    "I .es    Matinees    Italienn 
It  w  .    I  iter  on,  I  of  the  Empire,  that 

sh<  ried  M.  de  Rut  •      SI     then  lived  in  Paris, 

and  I  b<  was  bi  »rn  when  she  was 

nsiderably    over    fifty.     The    daughter    was,    I 
ird,  quite  deform*  d,   but    Mm*  . ! 

incontestable  proof  of  her  originality,   as  well 
■  ■I   her  tender  maternity,   by  taking  upon  h< 
to  nurse  her  lat<  ffsprin         mewhat  publicly. 

Jules  Oppert,  noticing  the  young  child  at  one 
her  parties,  inquired  to  whom  it  belonged,  and  on 
ild,  he  said,  after  a  hesitation  in  which  he 
to  calculate  the  mother's  age,  "After  all, 
it   is  quite   possible.     She   gets   ether    people   to 
write  her  music  and  her  articles,  and  to  carve  her 
ituettes.      She  is  quite  capable  of  getting  some 
one   to   have    children   for   her."      1    ne\  >uld 

un  tnd  th  it  influence  she  exercised  over 

men  of  all  agi  as  and  countri<  Mine. 

de  Rate  had  one  sister,  a  proi  I  the  Empres 

Eugenie,   by   wh         »vish  she  was  for  some  time 
at    a   convent    in    Paris.      1    I  if   it   was   th<- 

Sacre*  Cceur  or  I.      i         lux.      Later  on  she  went 
to    Italy    and     married    G  1  iirr.      1     think 

Madame  Tiirr  died  before  i    ,■"«>.  but  1  am  rathi 
ue  on  this  p<  >int. 

But  I  am  :  ting  my  chronology,  and  mi. 

now  go  huh  a.  earlier  event 


CHAPTER  V 


>  I 


THE    COUP    D    ETAT 

Receptions  at  the  Elyse'e — Mrs.  Ridgeway's  soirees  dansantes 
— Madame  Musard — I  excel  in  dancing,  and  dance  myself 
into  an  engagement  with  M.  de  Chassiron — The  difficulty 
of  getting  married — My  honeymoon — The  Orleanist  set — 
A  bridegroom  in  a  fix — The  Imperial  family — A  duel  by 
cards — The  Coup  d'etat — My  adventure  at  the  Elyse'e 
Palace 

The  winter  of  1849-50  was  a  very  gay  one. 
The  balls  and  receptions  at  the  Elysee,  where  the 
Princess  Mathilde  did  the  honours  as  hostess, 
the  soirees  dansantes  without  number,  filled  the 
programme  of  our  weeks  till  Lent  put  a  stop  to 
our  festivities.  The  houses  most  in  vogue  in 
the  unofficial  world,  whose  doors  were  hospitably 
thrown  open  to  their  numerous  friends,  were 
those  of  Mesdames  de  Beaumont,  de  B^hague, 
Hope  Bingham,  and  Ridgeway.  The  dances  at 
Mrs.  Ridgeway's  were  perhaps  the  prettiest.  Her 
husband,  her  daughter  and  herself  lived  in  one  of 
the  old  hotels  of  the  Noble  Faubourg.  She  was 
a  rich  American,  and  could  afford  to  pay  a  high 
price  for  the  privilege  of  living  in  the  middle  cf 
the  old  aristocracy,  with  their  frowns  and  airs  and 
84 


THE   i  OUP    D'ETAT 

closed  doors.  Her  balls  were  very  s  lect.  The 
ilitc  of  Paris,  all  the  jeunesse  don'e  d'aiors, 
crowded  oms,  and  many  well-known  Ami 

nsited  her,  which  was  interesting  to  me,  as 

I    had   myself  been   brought    up    in    the    United 

and  was  glad  to  meet  any  one  who  could 

talk  with  me  of  New   York  and   Philadelphia,   if 

not  of  1>  irdentown. 

An  ither  wealthy  American  who  dazzled  Paris 
by  the  gorgeous  luxury  she  displayed  was  Madame 
Musard.      She    was    exceedingly    beautiful;    her 

ity  wa  h  to  be  resented  by  many 

who  could  not  claim  so  large  a  share  of  that  dis- 

tinguishing  quality  at  a  time  when  to  be  beautiful 

.en    more   desirable   than    to  be  clever   or 

ilthy.  Those  who  envied  Madame  Musard, 
however,  affected  to  console  themselves  with 
remembrance  of  her  origin.  She  had,  I  believe, 
been  a  maid-servant  at  a  wayside'  inn  in  Ohio, 
when  a  French  musician  became  infatuated  with 
her  dancing  and  h<-r  playing  on  the  violin,  no  less 
than  by  her  beauty.  Her  name  was  Eliza  Parker, 
and  soon  after  she  became  Madame  Musard  she 
crossed  the  Atlantic  without  taking  the  previous 
precaution  of  untying  the  matrimonial  knot.  For 
a  time  she  played  a  prominent  part  on  the  stage 
of  European  gallantry,  and  at  Baden  her  charms 
attracted  the  admiration  of  the  phlegmatic  William 
III  <>f  Holland,  who  invited  her  to  take  a 
position    at    his    side    in    his    pala  The    strict 


MY   MEMOIRS 

moral  code  of  the  House  of  Orange  might  not 
have  suited  her  in  any  case,  but  the  husband  left 
in  the  United  States  was  an  insuperable  obstacle. 
When  the  beautiful  American  suggested  to  the 
King  that  she  was  willing  to  accept  a  professional 
fee,  he  hit  upon  a  form  of  remuneration  entirely 
in  accord  with  his  principles  of  economy.  He 
gave  her  a  bundle  of  share  certificates  which  had 
never  yielded  a  dividend,  and  which  he  believed 
to  be  utterly  valueless.  But  as  the  bonds  repre- 
sented shares  in  an  American  petroleum  oil 
company,  it  was  in  actuality  a  huge  fortune  that 
he  was  unwittingly  bestowing  upon  Madame 
Musard.  The  shares  quickly  rose  in  value,  and 
were  materialized  in  a  sumptuous  mansion  in 
Paris,  with  magnificent  horses  and  carriages, 
powdered  footmen,  and  a  grand-tier  box  at  the 
opera. 

Madame  Musard's  receptions  and  lavish 
entertainments  attracted  some  literary  celebrities 
and  artists.  I  remember  seeing  Th^ophile 
Gautier  and  Arsene  Houssaye  at  one  of  them. 
Houssaye,  I  believe,  was  a  frequent  guest  of  hers. 
Some  of  her  footmen  were  negroes,  who  looked 
funny  in  their  full-bottomed  wigs,  crimson  plush 
breeches,  buckles  and  silk  stockings.  Ultimately 
she  retired  from  Paris  society.  The  fatigue,  I 
fancy  was  mutual  on  the  part  of  herself  and  her 
guests.  She  bought  a  country  mansion  at  Ville- 
guier,  and  her  splendid  landau,  with  its  four 
86 


THE   COUP    1)  ETAT 

horses,  ce  to  b  n  as  they  had  formerly 

u  at  the  hour  when  the  world  drove  through 
the  Bois. 

A  rival  of  Madame  Musard  was  the  Marquise 
de    Paiva,    whi  tablishment   in    the    Champs 

El)  in mic  but  men  were  admitted,  was 

kept  up  with  the  most  insolent  luxury.  At  the 
same  time,  receptions  and  balls  were  given  by  the 
Aguados  in  Rue  d'Elys<  e,  by  the  Tascher  de  la 
Pag  r  at  the  Hdtel  d'Albe,  by  the  Metternichs 
at  the  Austrian  Embassy,  the  Walewskis  at  the 
Ministry  of  Foreign  affairs,  and,  of  course,  at  the 
hospitable  home  ol  the  Duke  and  Duchess  de 
Morny. 

All  through  the  carnival  we  met  every  night 
at  om-  h  or  the   other,   danced  and  supped 

after  the  cotillon,  and,  as  the  song  says,  went 
home  in  the  morning  early.  We  rested  all 
through  Lent,  only   i  an  again  with  renewed 

vigour  after  Easter. 

My  father  returned  from  Italy  about  this 
time,  very  much  disgusted  and  decidedly  annoyed 
to  find  that  I  had  allowed  myself  and  been  allow,  d 
to  dance  myself  into  an  engagement  with  the 
1 1  iron    de    (  "ha  ,  an  »n. 

My  projected  marriage  met  with  a  good  deal 
"i  opposition  and  some  trouble.  When  we 
thought  everything  definitely  settled,  we  found 
that  the  necessar)  certificates  were  missing.  In 
France   there   is  more   difficulty  in   being  born,  in 

«7 


MY   MEMOIRS 

being  married,  or  in  dying,  than  in  any  other 
country  in  the  world.  The  formalities  to  be  gone 
through  are  so  much  more  strict  in  France  than 
elsewhere.  My  birth  was  registered  at  Trenton, 
New  Jersey.  Great  was  our  astonishment  on 
receiving  a  reply  to  the  application  for  my  birth 
certificate,  made  through  the  French  Ambassador, 
to  the  effect  that  there  had  been,  some  years 
before,  a  great  fire  at  Trenton,  that  the  church 
and  vestry  had  been  burnt  down,  and  that  not 
the  vestige  of  a  register  remained  !  After  much 
delay  and  many  consultations,  the  officials  declared 
it  was  impossible  the  marriage  could  take  place 
unless  four  witnesses  to  my  birth  could  be  pro- 
duced. Rather  a  strong  order !  Luckily,  my 
father's  cousin,  Prince  Pierre  Bonaparte,  had 
visited  America  in  1833-4,  and  was  in  the  house 
at  Bordentown  on  the  day  of  my  birth.  My 
mother's  sister  was  a  second  witness,  and  we  had 
to  send  to  America  to  request  Mr.  Stevens  and 
another  friend  to  come  to  France  for  the  purpose 
of  identifying  me,  which  they  very  kindly  did. 

So  in  July  1850  I  was  married,  on  the  10th 
day  of  the  month.  My  marriage  took  place  at 
Vicomte  Clary's  country  seat  near  Paris,  called 
Le  Pavilion.  From  the  Pavilion  we  drove  to 
Corteil  en  route  for  Nantes  and  a  trip  through 
Brittany. 

We  wished  to  visit  all  the  noted  places  of 
this  country,  so  full  of  historical  interest,  where 
88 


THE   COUP    1)  BTAT 

the  wars  of  Vendue  and  the  scenes  of  the 
Revolution  had  left  so  many  and  such  lasting 
souvenirs.     After  a  few  days  at  Nantes,  wl  1. 

de  Chassiron  had  several  members  oi  his  family 
whose  acquaintance  he  wished  me  to  make,   \. 
sped  on  our  way  in  a  post  chaise  to  '  lisson,   to 
visit   the  ruins  ol   the  old  cast  -  well   known 

in  the  history  of  Brittany.  The  country  round 
there  is  lovely,  and   I    wa  interested  that   \ 

decided  to  remain  a  day  at  the  old  inn,  perchi 
on  the  top  of  a  hill,  with  the  quaint  little  village 
at  the  foot.  We  strolled  out  :  I  found  among 
the  ruins  of  the  castle  a  doorway,  still  in  perfect 
preservation,  and  so  beautiful  that  the  fancy  t <  •«  >k: 
me  to  make  a  sketch.  I  fear  poor  Giraud,  could 
he  have  seen  my  efforts,  would  have  thrown  up 
his  arms  in  despair.  Luckily,  however,  M.  de 
Chassiron,  who  could  paint  and  draw  well,  came 
to  the  rescue,  and  I  was  able  to  take  my  door- 
way with  me  in  my  portfolio  when  I  left.  I 
visited  the  donjon  where,  according  to  the 
traditions  of  the  place,  Abelard  was  at  one  time 
imprisoned.  The  next  day  we  drove  to  Tiffany 
where  we  took  rooms  and  remaine  I  for  a  week  or 
more  making  excursions  in  the  neighbourhood — 
one  ol  the  most  picturesque  of  Vendee.  From 
the  inn  to  the  valley  below  we  went  down  a 
narrow  path  cut  in  a  steep  descent  and  tilled  with 
a  mass  of  small  stones,  very  pointed,  on  which  we 
walked    as   if  on   eggs,   the    process  being    most 


MY   MEMOIRS 

painful  to  my  feet,  with  Paris  shoes,  thin  soles 
and  high  Louis  XV  heels.  We  hired  rods  and 
fishing-tackle  to  worry  the  poor  little  fish  in  the 
stream  that  ran  through  the  valley :  so  we  whiled 
away  the  summer  hours  till  our  return  to  Nantes, 
to  do  duty  in  family  dinners  and  evening  parties, 
given  in  our  honour. 

M.  de  Chassiron,  of  whom  I  have  said  very 
little,  was  Nantais  by  his  mother.  The  de 
Goulains,  the  Turennes — old  Royalist  families — 
were  his  first  cousins.  His  father  belonged  to 
the  Charente  Inferieure.  De  Chassiron  is  the 
name  of  an  old  French  family  whose  barony  dates 
back  to  the  days  when  barons  were  seigneurs. 
So  his  ancestors  were  Seigneurs  de  l'ile  d'Oleron 
et  de  l'ile  de  Re\  His  father  was  a  staunch 
Royalist — Orleanist,  I  should  say.  M.  Duchatel, 
minister  of  Louis  Philippe,  was  M.  de  Chassiron's 
most  intimate  friend.  Thus,  by  my  marriage 
I  was  thrown  into  the  Royalist  and  Orleanist 
set.  I  must  say  I  liked  them  immensely.  To  me 
they  were  extremely  courteous,  especially  the 
Dampierres,  the  Duchatels,  and  Puys^gurs. 

We  travelled  from  Nantes  to  St.  Brieux, 
Cotes  du  Nord,  where  we  had  been  invited  to 
stay  with  the  Count  and  Countess  de  Turennes — 
dear  old  people  who  lived  entirely  in  the  depths 
of  their  wood,  in  rather  a  tumble-down  old 
chateau,  but  picturesque  and  overlooking  a  wide 
panorama  of  beautiful  scenery. 
90 


THE   c  OUP    I)  1.1. \  1 

We  [  all   the  way   from    Nantes   to  St. 

/:',  nit  mid-day   we    chan 

horses  at  1  >in  in,  a  little  village  in  those  days,  but 

the  pretty  countrj  nd  ha  Lttracted  the 

attention   of  many    English,  who   arc    always    so 

mpt   to  discover  a    pretty  foreign    place    and 
make  it  a  little  colony  all  their  own.     Pau,  Can: 

aid  even  Algiers  and  Ajaccio  have  their 
colony  of  English,  and  I  quite  accus- 

tomed   to     English    habits    and     English    t  i^t<s. 
Hatter   puddings,   suet  dumplings,  and    hot  cross 
low  them  everywhere.     Roast  beef  anil 
plum  pudding  have  beconv    French  as  well  as  tea. 

1  r  m   St.  Brieux,  we  travell*  d  back  to  Paris 
with   a  yi  on    their    honeymoon,   but 

parted  company  at  the  Gare  d'Orleans.  The 
brid  im    was     so    I  l'-<-\>.    we    had     some 

difficulty  in  waking  him,  and  when  we  at  last 
suc<  was  unable  to  leave   the  carriage. 

lie  had  taken  off  his  boots  to  sleep  more  com- 
fortably,  and  his  feet  had  become  such  a  size 
during  his  slumbers  that  nothing  could  induce 
them    into   the  boots    again.      I    never  heard  the 

!    of  the  stare. 

r  som.  I  have  been  too  unwell  to 

write.      It   is  always,   I    feel,  very  difficult  to  take 

up  the  thread  of  my  ideas  where  1   left  them.      If 

I  never  stopped  writing,  1  could  go  on  tor  ever. 

This  sounds  verj   Irish.      It  is  nevertheless  true. 


MY   MEMOIRS 

When  I  have  collected  my  thoughts  and  thrown 
myself  once  more  into  the  dear  past,  the  present 
all  vanishes  from  my  mind.  I  see,  hear,  feel 
nothing  around  me.  I  live  over  again  the  years 
from  1848  to  1870 — the  years  when  I  really  lived 
— when  each  day  brought  some  new  pleasure, 
some  fresh  excitement,  a  wished-for  jewel,  a 
"  sentiment "  or  a  caprice.  The  days  when  the 
first  thought  in  the  morning  was  "  what  shall  we 
do  to-day  to  amuse  ourselves  ?  "  The  last  thought, 
"how  shall  we  amuse  ourselves  to-morrow?  "  In 
a  word,  the  days  of  the  Empire — days  of  glory,  of 
luxury,  of  love,  of  folly;  with  no  looking  back, 
with  no  looking  forward — the  retreat  from  Mos- 
cow— the  life  and  death  of  the  King  of  Rome — 
the  battle  of  Waterloo — the  sad  drama  of  St. 
Helena — all,  all  forgotten,  disappeared  in  one 
round  of  triumphal  glory  and  pleasure.  Who 
thought  of  a  future  ?  Who  dreamt  of  a  reverse  ? 
The  sovereigns  in  Paris — the  nations  at  our  feet 
— the  Czar,  the  Emperor  of  Austria,  the  King  of 
Prussia,  the  Prince  of  Wales  by  the  side  of  the 
Emperor  Napoleon — all  smiled  upon  us :  who 
could  foresee  1870 — ?  Had  it  been  prophesied, 
who  would  have  believed  it  ? 

We  took  up  our  quarters  in  a  small  pied-a- 
terre,  which  had  been  engaged  for  us  in  the 
Rue  des  Ecuries  d'Artois.  My  father  and  all  my 
family  had  left  the  Rue  d'Anjou  for  a  pretty  villa 

near  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  on  account  of  my 
92 


THE   COUP    1)  ETAT 

mother's  health.     We  remained  in  Paris  tor  some 

months,  till  after  the   New   Y    ir,  and  then  went 
on    a   visit   to    M.  I  hassiron's  father   at    the 

•  le     Beauregard,    near    La     Rochelle, 

1  Intc 

While   in    Paris,  \\  very  gay,   theatre 

and    sir  it  .      Prince     Pierre 

Bonapart         f   whom    I    have    spoken   .is    being 
present    at     my    birth,    was    with    us    at    many 
air    festiviti  He    was    like    the    Emperor 

Napoleon  1  in  face  and  figure,  much  more  so  than 
any  other   member  of  the    family   except    Prim 
Naj    I     -    son  of   King    feVome,  who,  it  will  be 
reme  1.    married    a     Miss     Paterson    when 

on   a   visit   to   the   United   States,  which  marriage 
ired  null  by  the  i  (under  pressure),  as 

the  Emperor  refused  to  recognize  his  brother's 
union.  1  it<  r,  King  Jerdme  married  the  Prince 
Catherine  of  Wurtemburg  and  had  two  children, 
Princess  Mathilde  and  Prince  Napoleon.  This 
branch  under  the  Si  cond  Empire  formed  the  so 
.led  Imp'  rial  family — the  other  branches  and 
memb  -<1   the  so-called 

Prince  Pierre,  111.'-  ourselves,  belonged  to  this 
last,  also  his  elder  brothers,  Prince  de  Canino 
and  Prince  Louis  Lucien,  the  \  who  died  in 

1  England.  Prince  Pierre.like  his  brothers, had  great 
literar)  talents — a  very  cultivated  mind,  and  great 
powers  of  h.      Y<  i  he  was  scarcely  what  you 

could  call  refined.      I  le  had  very  strong  republican 


MY  MEMOIRS 

opinions,  principles  and  prejudices.  He  had 
spent  all  the  early  part  of  his  life  in  Corsica,  and 
in  character  and  manner  was  more  Italian  than 
French.  I  liked  him,  perhaps  because  I  knew 
him  more  intimately  than  my  other  relations — 
perhaps  because  none  of  the  others  could  tolerate 
him.  Perhaps  because  he  was  considered  the 
black  sheep  of  the  family  on  account  of  his  ad- 
vanced politics — and  I  thought  him  unjustly  set 
aside.1  However  that  may  be,  I  did  like  him, 
and  had  I  been  a  little  older,  or  had  a  marriage 
been  suggested  with  him,  instead  of  some  other 
prince  I  will  not  name,  my  destiny  might  have 
been  very  different.  Many  anecdotes  have  been 
told  me  of  his  life  in  Corsica  and  elsewhere.  One 
of  these  I  must  relate. 

'Twas  said  that  the  two  brothers,  Prince  Louis 
Lucien  and  Prince  Pierre,  in  their  early  youth, 
when  shooting    mouflons    in    the    mountains    in 

1  Princess  Caroline  appears  to  have  forgotten  Prince  Pierre's 
unfortunate  altercation  with  Victor  Noir  at  Auteuil  in  1870, 
an  altercation  which  resulted  in  the  impulsive  young  Corsican 
drawing  his  revolver  and  fatally  wounding  Noir.  The  sensa- 
tion which  this  affair  created  in  Paris  was  profound,  and  it 
involved  the  Government  in  serious  trouble.  Public  sympathy 
was  wholly  with  Victor  Noir.  Prince  Pierre  himself  was 
arrested  and  sent  summarily  for  trial  at  the  High  Court  of 
Justice  at  Tours.  He  was  acquitted  of  the  capital  charge,  but 
sentenced  to  pay  ^1,000  as  compensation  to  the  Noir  family. 
There  is  no  room  for  doubt  that  Prince  Pierre  was  a  black 
sheep.  He  was  reckless,  extravagant,  quarrelsome,  and  became 
a  continual  thorn  in  the  flesh  of  the  Emperor. 
94 


THE    COUP    I)  II  AT 

Corsica,  came  acrossa  beautiful  ;        mt  girl,  with 
whom  they  both  fell  violently  in  !  Who  she 

Wets,  and  whether  she  favoured  both  brothers 
neither,  I  cannot  tell.  Be  that  as  it  may,  tl 
quarrelled.     Les preux  cht  s  ol  old  would,  no 

doubt,  in  similar  occurrence  have  had  recourse  to 
lance  and  sword.  The  Corsican  princes  decided 
tu  play  for  their  belle  a  game  of  earth.  Tl. 
went  to  the  nearest  inn  and  wrote  and  signed  a 
paper  igre<  ng  that  whichever  won  the  game 
should  marry  the  lady  fair.  Prince  Lucien  won 
and,  faithful  to  his  word,  a  short  time  after  married 
her.1  She  never  left  the  island,  as  far  as  I  know. 
Prince  Lucien  lived  in  England,  securing  to  her 
a  comfortable  income  which  she  received  till  her 
death,  a  few  years  ago,  somewhere  about  the 
spring  of  1891. 

On  December  2,  1851,  the  Prince-President 
effected  his  celebrated  Coup  cCEtat.  The  pre- 
sumption is  that  if  he  had  not  abruptly  dep< 
the  Assembly,  the  Assembly  would  have  deposed 
the  President.  Whatever  history  may  have  to 
say  of  the  occasion,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that 
Louis  Napoleon  held  the:  trump  cards,  and  that, 
spurred  by  De  Morny,  he  played  them  with 
success.  The  bis  battalions  were  on  his  side. 
He  made  his  power  effective  and  solved  for  the 
time  the  difficulties  in  which  France  was  plunged. 

1  She  was   Maria  Cecchi,  of  Lucca.     He  married  her  in 
[3  and  w.is  separated  from  her  in   1S50. 

95 


MY  MEMOIRS 

I  am  not  a  politician.  I  do  not  pretend  to  under- 
stand the  intricacies  of  political  movements.  My 
own  recollections  of  the  Coup  d'litat  are  associ- 
ated only  with  a  personal  adventure. 

It  was  in  the  evening.  The  Elysee  Palace, 
we  heard,  was  being  mobbed  ;  there  was  serious 
rioting ;  blood  was  being  shed ;  the  Prince- 
President  was  in  danger.  Princess  Mathilde, 
with  whom  I  was  staying  in  the  Rue  de  Cour- 
celles,  was  extremely  anxious.  Fearing  the  worst, 
she  had  packed  up  all  her  valuable  jewels,  and 
was  sitting  on  her  jewel-cases.  She  implored  me 
to  drive  to  the  Elysee  and  see  what  was  happen- 
ing, and  bade  me  as  a  precaution  to  take  a  small 
loaded  revolver  with  me.  I  drove  through  the 
crowded  streets  and  arrived  in  safety  in  the  court- 
yard of  the  palace.  But  as  the  gates  were 
opened  the  excited  mob  rushed  in.  As  I  stepped 
from  the  carriage  I  was  startled  by  a  shot  quite 
close  to  me.  In  my  terror  I  imagined  that  some 
one  had  attempted  my  assassination.  I  had  for- 
gotten my  own  revolver,  and  as  I  alighted  the 
weapon  had  fallen  to  the  pavement  and  been 
accidentally  discharged.  The  people,  on  their 
part,  thought  that  I  was  shooting  at  them,  and  the 
incident  might  have  ended  very  differently  had 
not  the  footman  and  one  of  the  Elysee  servants 
hastened  to  my  rescue  and  hustled  me  indoors. 
I  returned  to  the  Rue  de  Courcelles,  but  the 
Princess,  still  more  and  more  uneasy,  begged  me 
96 


THE    COUP    1)  ETAT 

to  pass  the  night  at  the  Elys6e,  in  order  to  give 

her  the   news.     So  I  was  installed  in  a  room  at 
the  porter's   lodg<       The  night  was   undisturl 
by    the    smallest    incident,    and   I    slept    like    an 
Englishman  in  his  four-poster. 


"7 


CHAPTER   VI 

RESTORATION    OF    THE    EMPIRE 

The  Imperial  Eagles — The  Prince-President's  tour  of  the 
Provinces — His  speech  at  Bordeaux — Miss  Howard  couples 
my  name  with  that  of  the  future  Emperor — The  Prince 
honours  me  with  a  visit  to  Beauregard — Restoration  of 
the  Empire — Matrimonial  negotiations — Mademoiselle  de 
Montijo — The  Emperor's  speech  announcing  his  betrothal 
— The  Empress  Eugenie — Des  Pierettes — Visit  of  Queen 
Victoria — English  Beauties  at  Compiegne — Birth  of  the 
Prince  Imperial — The  Prince  of  Orange  and  the  Mabille 
Gardens — A  Royal  arrest — Death  of  the  Prince  of  Orange 

May  ii,  1902 

A  letter,  a  word,  a  tune,  and  old  recollections 
come  floating  back,  and  things  and  scenes  of  long 
ago  and  long  forgotten  come  suddenly  before  our 
eyes.  A  date — the  nth  of  May,  1852,  just  half- 
a-century  ago — brings  back  to  my  mind,  as  if  it 
were  yesterday,  the  imposing  ceremony  of  the 
distribution  of  the  Imperial  Eagles  to  the  army. 
The  famous  Eagles  that  had  slept  with  the 
Emperor  Napoleon,  buried  with  him  for  thirty- 
seven  years,  were  once  again  to  carry  our  flags 
to   victory,   and,    casting     their    shadows    before, 

proclaim  to  the  world  a  second  Empire.  Four 
98 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

montl  my  nineteen  winters  hud  p         :  over 

my    head    wh  ompanying     th        Princi 

Mathilde,    I    stood   on  the   balcony   of  the   Ecole 
Militaire.     The  Champs  de  Mars  in  all  its  glory 

before  me.      R<  at  after  regiment  in  line, 

and    every    colonel    of    every    absent    regiment 

ordered  to  be  present.  .   .  .   An  immense  chaj 
had    been  I    on    all    tour    sides,    tor 

the  M  iss  and  benediction  of  the  E  igles.  The 
Prince  President.  King  Jerome,  his  uncle,  Prince 
Napoleon,  all  the  foreign  princes  and  princesses  of 
the  Imperial  family,  the  Marshals  St.  Arnaud  and 
Magnan,  and  all  the  officers  and  great  dignitari* 
!  the  State  arrived  as  the  clock  struck  tweh 
The  shouts  of  "  Vive  Napoleon  !  "Vive  le  Prince- 
President!"  it  the  air  as  he  passed  along  the 
front  of  each  regiment  of  the  garrison  of  Paris 
and  Versailles.  The  sun,  how  brightly  it  shone 
upon  us!  Weather  and  faces  were  alike  radiant. 
The    Prince  President    entered    a   sort    of  stand 

erved  for  him,  and  before  presenting  the  flaj 
to  the  colonels,  all  assembled  before  him,  ho 
addressed  the  troops.  Then  the  Archbishop, 
alter  blessing  the  Eagles,  delivered  a  short  allo- 
cution. And,  the  colonels  receiving  the  flags,  the 
air  again  resounded  with  deafening  cries. 

The-     Prince,    leaving   the   Champs  de    Mars, 
>ed    along    a   balcony   where    we   stood.      How 
he<  red  !     We  waved  our  handkerchiefs — w 
blew  kisses  in  the  air.      Our  enthusiasm   knew   no 


MY  MEMOIRS 

bounds.  We  were  wild  with  delight.  My  pen 
could  never  tell  or  give  any  idea  of  the  picture 
that  flashes  before  me  as  I  am  carried  back  to 
1852.  That  evening  Paris  was  splendidly  illu- 
minated. Most  magnificent  fireworks  were  sent 
off  from  the  Place  de  la  Concorde.  Dense  crowds 
filled  every  place  and  every  street.  And  joy 
filled  all  our  hearts  at  the  Palace  of  the  Elysee. 
Hearts  that,  with  very  few  exceptions,  will  never 
beat  again. 

The  Princess  Mathilde  is  the  only  one  left  of 
the  older  generation.  She  was  born  on  May  27, 
1820,  one  year  later  than  Queen  Victoria.  Of 
the  younger  I  alone  am  left  to  remember — of 
those  old  enough  to  be  present. 

The  members  of  the  family  present  besides 
the  Princess  Mathilde  and  myself  were,  of  the 
older  generation — 

The  Princess  Bacciochi, 

The  Princess  Caroline  Murat  (my  mother), 

The  Princess   Marie  of  Baden — Duchess  of 

Hamilton  ; 
And  of  the  younger  generation — 

Princess    Julie    Bonaparte — Marquise    Roc- 

cagiovini, 
Princess    Charles    Bonaparte,    ne'e    Princess 

Ruspoli, 

Princess    Charlotte     Bonaparte  —  Comtesse 

Primoli, 
100 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

Trim  i  Augusta      Boi  —  Prim  i 

rielli. 

On  the  nth  of  May  thi  r,  1002,  I    wr< 

to  th<    Prii  Mathilde  to  ask  her  if  she  remem- 

This  is  I  written  1  in  th<  1  >l 

her  eighty  !  birtl 

.    H_/02. 

My   DEA1     I  IN 

I    remember  everythii  I    think    often 

erythi  1    steep    myseli     in     tears    and 

avenirs.      I   thank   you.      1   embrace  you. 

You]  .     ;  aunt, 

Mathili 

In  the  autumn  oi  .  having  earlier  in  the 

it  made  a  pr<  i   t<  1  Strasl  urg,  the    1  'riiu 

President    decided    to  forth    on    a    visit    to 

the    provim  ithern    France,   in  order  to 

rtain  for  himself  the  sentiment  of  the  people 
on  the  subject  of  the  ai  ion  to  the  Imperial 
thron<  After  passing  through  several  oi  the 
departments,  where  he  was  most  enthusiastically 
rei  made  at  Bord  th<    well-known 

h,    "  L'empire  c'est   la   Paix,"   in  the  emu 
ol   which   h        .:  i  :   ••  1    have   conquests  to    make, 
but  they  are  conqu  We  have  vast 

waste  territorii  ;  to  drain  and  cultivate,   roads  to 
en,  ports  to  be  deepened,  canals  to  be  c<  impleted, 
river-,    to    be    made    navigable,    railways    to    be 
connected.   .  .  .   This  is  how  1  shall  interpret  th 
Empire,    il    the   Empire   is  to   be   re-established. 


101 


MY  MEMOIRS 

These  are  the  conquests  which  I  meditate ;  and 
you  who  surround  me,  who  desire  the  good  of 
your  country,  you  are  my  warriors." 

I  joined  his  suite  at  Bordeaux  and  was  present 
with  him  on  the  gala  night  at  the  Opera  House. 
The  opera  was  Le  Prophete.  I  had  some  trouble 
in  preventing  the  Prince  from  going  to  sleep  in 
the  middle  of  the  performance.  He  was  not  a 
lover  of  music,  and  the  opera  was  a  heavy  one. 
We  had  seen  it  so  many  times  before. 

From  Bordeaux  the  Prince  went  on  to  An- 
gouleme  to  pay  his  flying  visit  to  Les  Charentes, 
reputed  to  be  the  cradle  of  the  dawning  Empire. 
I  went  on  to  receive  him  at  Rochefort.  He  was 
to  be  at  the  Prefecture  Maritime.  An  official 
dinner  and  a  ball  was  the  programme.  One  of 
my  horses  went  down  as  I  entered  the  town.  I 
deplored  the  catastrophe  and  the  consequent 
delay,  but,  luckily,  my  best  hat  was  the  only 
sufferer.  A  postilion  put  his  foot  through  it.  I 
was  doomed  not  to  look  my  best,  which,  as  may 
be  supposed,  slightly  annoyed  the  bloom  of 
eighteen.  I  was  spared  the  dinner,  however, 
and  arrived  at  the  ball  just  in  time  to  take  my 
place  as  the  Prince's  partner  in  the  quadrille 
dhonneur.  During  the  rest  of  the  evening  he 
paid  great  attention  to  me ;  so  much  so,  that 
remarks  were  freely  made. 

Miss  Howard,  who  always  followed  incognita 
in  the  Prince's  suite,  remarked  to  a  friend,   who, 

I02 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

i  .f   course    rej  !   the  /-■  to    me,     "  i 

tite  sotte  would  have  been  Empress  of  the 
French  if  she  had  had  the  good  sense  to  wait 
— the    only    unmarried    Princess    in    the    family. 

And  such  a  match  would  have  had  my  approval." 
From  a  letter  which  came  into  my  p<  ion 

long  afterwards,  I  extract  the  following — 

"What  shall  I  sa  ait  the  ball?     Nothing 

larkable — except,  perhaps,  the  presence  ol 
.Miss  Howard,  the  President's  mistress  who,  like 
the  favourites  of  olden  days,  was  in  a  position  of 
honour,  although  she  was  not  too  obvious, 
approached  her  and,  in  the  course  of  our  talk, 
she  spoke  these  words,  which  have  never  passed 
from  my  memory  :  '  Hasn't  she  been  foolish,  this 
little  princess— to  marry  de  Chassiron  ?  If  she 
had  willed  it  I  myself  should  have  made  of  her — 
who  knows? — perhaps  a  future  Empress.1 

"  1  repeated  this  the  same  evening  to  the 
Princess,  who  replied  to  me:  'Yes,  1  know.  A 
great  many  people  think  the  same  my  family 
among  others;  but  I'm  not  made  to  reign  over 
Fran<    .     M\  ition  dors  not  go  as  far  as  that. 

(  >ne  would  have  to  roach  a  height  of  character  to 
which  I  should  never  be  able  to  attain.  No,  I 
will  be  content  to  rule  over  a  few  French 
h<arts.'  " 

Early  the  next  day  my  maids  and  valet  were 
sent  on  to  La  Rochelle.  On  my  arrival,  just  in 
time  to  dress,  I  heard  there  had  been  another 
accident,    owing    to   the   careless   driving  ol   the 

«°3 


MY   MEMOIRS 

postilion.  The  wheel  of  the  travelling  carriage 
caught  the  porte  cochere,  with  the  result  that 
trunks,  portmanteaux,  boxes,  travelling-case, 
etc.,  were  sent  flying  from  the  top  into  mid-air, 
landing  in  various  parts  of  the  courtyard.  Luckily 
the  maids  and  jewel-cases  inside  took  no  harm — 
but  the  trunks  were  in  pieces,  and  most  of  my 
belongings  had  been  gathered  up  here,  there  and 
everywhere.  Notwithstanding,  I  had  to  be  in 
full  battle  array  to  receive  the  Prince.  I  put  on 
my  war-paint  as  best  I  could  with  the  remains  of 
the  wreck,  and  just  got  to  the  hall  as  the  Prince 
was  signalled.  Another  dinner  and  another  ball, 
and  so  ended  a  very  trying  and  tiring  day. 

Beauregard,  our  country  seat,  was  six  miles 
from  La  Rochelle,  and  the  Prince  announced  his 
intention  of  honouring  me  with  a  visit  on  his  way 
back  to  Tours.  It  was  the  fall  of  the  year,  13th 
or  14th  of  October,  I  think,  that  the  Prince  and 
all  his  military  suite  breakfasted  at  Beauregard. 
After  a  1 2  o'clock  dejeuner  and  a  smoke  on  the 
terrace,  we  planted  a  tree  in  remembrance  of  the 
day — a  Polonius  imperialis.  Then  the  Prince 
proposed  that  the  travelling  equipages  should  be 
sent  on  two  miles  that  I  might  accompany  him  in 
a  constitutional.  It  was  a  perfect  October  day, 
and  we  all  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  walk.  Sud- 
denly the  order  "  Pas  gymnastique  "  was  yelled  in 
my  ear,  and  I  felt  my  arm  seized  by  the  Prince, 
who  started  at  a  little  trot,  all  the  suite  forming 
104 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

into  lim  ular  military  style. 

At    the  top   of    .i   Ion      ri 

breath.      Th  were   drawn   up  a  little 

ahead.    All  pi  it  thing  an  end,  and  so 

I  '  to  the  Prince,  thanking  him  warmly 

1  d<  »ne  me,  watched  and  waved 
till  he  it  of  sight      I    drove  home,  sorry  to 

1  with  the   Prince,  but  i    I       rry  to  rest.       I  he 
hurry  and  bastl«-  of  the   last   few  days  had  tired 

n  my  nineteen  summ< 

The  Prince,  after  visiting  Tours,  made 
break  in  his  journey  at  Ambois<        Ab  I  el-Kadir, 
the  Algerian  hero  who  had  surrendered  to  General 
Lamoriciere    in     1847,    was    imprisoned    in    the 
1  an  d'Amb  md    the   Prince    wished    to 

have  the  pleasure  of  telling  the  prisoner  himseli 
that  he   was  j>  irdoned  and  fri 

I  Mi  tin-  [6th  of  <  )ctober  the  Prince  re  ent<  red 
Paris.  He  was  received  by  the  Ministry,  the 
S  .  and   all   the  high  dignitai  f  State  at 

the  (iar<-  ('M','    ins.     Amid  the  thundering  oftl 

the   peals  of  ringing  bells,    the  shouts 
of  th(  iple,    the   military   music,    intermingled 

with  singing  of  cantatas,  the  Prince  was  almost 
rried  in  triumph  to  the  Palace  of  the  Tuileries. 
1 .  Lter  in  the  evening,  tired  of  honours,  of  h<  »mage, 
ol  noise,  fatigu<  1  by  the  journey,  he  drove  to  St. 
Cloud  for  a  lit:  t  and  qui 

Meanwhile  the    Moniti  ■>■.  the  official  pa] 
was  preparing  an  article  to  appear  the  followin 

1 


MY   MEMOIRS 

day,  saying  that  all  France  was  desirous  that  the 
Empire  should  be  restored.  The  wish  of  the 
nation  and  the  people  had  been  enthusiastically 
manifested,  and  it  was  suggested  that  the  Senate 
should  be  consulted. 

From  this  time  the  course  of  events  made 
rapid  strides.  After  receiving  in  great  ceremony 
11  Les  grands  corps  de  l'fitat "  at  St.  Cloud,  on 
November  i,  offering  him  the  crown,  the  Prince, 
either  from  superstition  or  sentiment,  again  chose 
December  2  for  his  proclamation  as  Emperor, 
and  on  that  date  he  left  St.  Cloud  and  proceeded 
in  state  to  the  Tuileries. 

In  the  first  days  of  November  I  had  returned 
to  Paris,  the  4th  being  the  "St.  Charles,"  my 
fete  day,  and  also  my  mother's.  We  never  missed 
being  together.  A  note  from  the  Princess  de 
Wagram  was  brought  me,  saying,  "  Venez  feter 
tous  les  Charles  avec  nous  a  Grosbois." 

We  spent  a  few  days  with  our  amiable 
chatelaine — the  two  families  being  old  and  dear 
friends.  The  weather  was  bitterly  cold  and 
bleak — almost  impossible  to  keep  warm,  notwith- 
standing the  huge  forest  logs  that  blazed  on  the 
hearth.  Grosbois,  beautiful  chateau,  one  of  the 
finest  places  in  the  department  of  Seine  et  Oise, 
belonged  to  Monsieur,  brother  of  Louis  XVI, 
then  to  some  other,  and  afterwards  to  Moreau, 
before  it  came  into  the  possession  of  Berthier, 
Prince  de  Wagram.  The  property  is,  I  believe, 
106 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

nine  leagues  in  a  rii  ice  and  joins  the   I        I 

of  Senart,  the  hunting  of  which  belonged  to  my 
brother  during  the  Empire. 

The  ( )ourt  was  at  this  time  at  ( )ompi 
The  pretty,  ancient   town  of  Compie  has 

many  historical  memories.  Built  in  the  time  ol 
the  Gauls,  it  was  here  that  in  1430  Jeanne  d'An 
was  captured  and  sold  to  the  English,  and  where 
a  statue  is  erected  to  commemorate  the  spot  on 
which  her  arrestation  was  effected.  The  beauti- 
ful castle  was  construi  ted  durin  reigns  of 
Louis  XIV  and  XV,  and  it  has  always  since 
been  the  favourite  resid  of  our  sovereigns. 
It  was  here,  in  [810,  that  Napoleon  I  met 
Marie  Louise  of  Austria;  here  that  Napoleon 
111  met  Kugenic  de  Montijo.  The  forest  is  a 
very  extensive  one  of  30,000  acres,  the  hunting- 
ground  of  many  of  our  French  kings.  The 
Chiteau  of  Pierrefonds  stands  at  it  tern  ex- 
tremity, and,  having  fallen  almost  into  ruins,  it 
was  restored  by  orders  of  the  Emperor,  1  think 
in  1S62,  the  restoration  being  entrusted  to  the 
care  of  Violette-le-Duc,  the  eminent  architect  ol 
the  Second  Empire,  who  enjoyed  great  favour 
with  the   Empress   Eugenie. 

Prior    to    the    Emperor's    marriage,    Prim 
Mathilde  acted  as  hostess  at  the  Palace  of  Com- 
piegne,  as  she  did  at  the  El)  ;de.      It  is  matter  ^\ 
history  that    Princess    Mathilde  was  one  ol    the 
first  objects  of  Louis  Napoleon's  affections.     Th 

107 


MY   MEMOIRS 

had  seen  much  of  each  other  in  their  youth  at 
Arenenburg,  and  his  mother,  the  Queen  Hor- 
tense,  had  the  ambition  that  they  should  marry. 
He  was  sincerely  fond  of  Princess  Mathilde 
always.  More  than  once  he  proposed  marriage 
to  her,  and  it  is  recorded  that  while  he  was  a 
prisoner  at  Ham,  hearing  of  her  marriage  with 
Anatole  Demidoff  in  1840,  he  wept  and  said 
bitterly  to  Barrot :  "  This  is  the  last  and  heaviest 
blow  that  fortune  had  in  store  for  me."  It  is 
possible,  indeed  very  probable,  that  had  my  aunt 
been  Empress  of  the  French  the  Franco- Prussian 
War  would  never  have  taken  place,  and  that 
many  lesser  errors  of  the  Empire  would  have 
been  avoided.  She  understood  Louis  Napoleon 
in  a  way  that  it  was  never  given  his  consort  to 
understand  him,  and  she  would  have  made  an 
admirable  Empress. 

Among  Princess  Mathilde's  guests  at  Com- 
piegne,  in  November  1852,  were  Madame  de 
Montijo  and  her  daughter  Eugenie.  Napoleon, 
always  attracted  by  the  sight  of  a  pretty  face  and 
a  graceful  figure,  saw  Mademoiselle  in  the  draw- 
ing-room. "  Who  is  she  ?  "  he  inquired  of  my 
aunt,  indicating  the  beautiful  girl.  "  A  Made- 
moiselle de  Montijo,  a  foreigner  from  Andalusia," 
the  Princess  told  him.  "  I  would  like  to  be 
introduced  to  her,"  he  said.  Madame  de  Montijo 
and    Mademoiselle    Eugenie  were    the    Princess 

Mathilde's  guests  in  the  ensuing  winter  at  a 
108 


/  - 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

dance  and   various  dinm  ties  at   the   Elys* 

md  from  that  time  onward, 
Prince  President    stayed,   whether  at    St.  Cloud, 
Fontaim  .  or  Compiegne,  the  Montijos  w< 

among  the  most  frequent  guests.      Mademoiselle 
de   Montijo  was  then   no   longer  a   mere  girl  in 

irs,  but  she  was  still  extremely  beautiful,  and  si 
looked  •  i  on   horseback,  when   takii 

part  in  the  ch  ise  .     often  did  at  Compiegne. 

Napoleon   did    not   di  from    Prime  Jerome 

the  fact  that  he  was  smitten  by  the  fair  Spaniard's 
charms.      "  Yes,"   i  nded    \6r6me,  "  it  is  quite 

natural    and    proper    to    love     Mademoiselle    d 
Montijo,   but  of  course  one  cannot  marry  her." 

Her  Spanish  pride  was  observable,  and  al- 
though it  was  si  retly  hinted  by  Henry  that  she- 
was  ambitious  to  become  Empress  of  the  French, 
it  was  apparent  that  she  was  prepared  equally  to 
quit  France  and  return  to  Spain  at  the  slightest 
sign  of  disresp*    t. 

Rumours  of  all  kinds  were  afloat — among 
other  "on  dits"  that  friendly  negotiations  having 
failed  to  bring  about  an  alliance  with  the  Princess 
de  Was  i,  granddaughter  of  the  Grand  Duchess 
Stephanie  of  Baden  and  the  present  Queen  of 
Saxony,  Comte  Waleski,  then  our  envoyi  in 
London,  was  endeavouring  to  arrange  a  union 
between  the  future  Emperor  of  the  French  and 
Princess   Mar)-  Adelaide  of    Hohenlohe,  niece  of 

Queen  Victoria.     Meantime,  the  habitues  kA   the 

109 


MY  MEMOIRS 

Court  at  Compiegne  affirmed  that  Louis  Napoleon, 
ignoring  equally  friends  and  Ambassador,  was 
busily  looking  after  himself  and  preparing  his 
marriage  according  to  his  own  fancy. 

Mile,  de  Montijo,  whom  he  greatly  admired, 
was  again  with  her  mother  among  the  guests 
at  Compiegne.  No  one  who  remembers  her 
unsurpassed  loveliness,  her  captivating  charm,  her 
graceful  manner,  could  be  surprised  that  the 
Prince  fell  a  victim  to  the  fascination  of  her 
beauty.  Of  course,  gossip  was  rife  with  many 
stories,  and  every  one  had  become  familiar  with 
the  saying  of  Eugenie,  that  the  only  way  to  her 
bedroom  was  through  a  well-lit  church.  One 
incident  I  will  tell,  though  I  was  not  with  the 
Court  that  year,  and  I  know  it  only  by  hearsay. 
One  morning,  during  a  walk  in  the  woods  with 
him,  Mile,  de  Montijo  discovered  and  greatly 
admired  a  quaintly-shaped  clover  leaf,  holding 
large  drops  of  dew.  The  Prince  sent  it  to  Paris 
by  special  messenger,  ordering  a  jewel  to  be  made 
in  perfect  imitation  of  the  natural  leaf,  large 
diamonds  forming  the  dewdrops  on  the  green 
emeralds.  The  jewel  was  presented  to  Mile, 
de  Montijo  two  days  later,  having  been 
beautifully  and  so  rapidly  executed.  I  forget 
the  name  of  the  jeweller — perhaps  Meiller,  of 
the  Rue  de  la  Paix.  It  was  by  this  pretty 
means  that  he  first  revealed  his  love  to  her. 

When  the  Court  had  returned  from  Compiegne, 
no 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

conjectun  the   Emperor's  matrimonial  In- 

tentions formed  the  subject"  .1  conversa 

tion.      The    conjectures    v.  ften    ridiculously 

wide  oi  the  mark;  but  we  in  the  inner  circle  of 
the  Tuileries  knew  that  decidedly  Mile,  de  Montijo 
was  to  be  our  future  Empre  Everyone  u 

talking  and  whispering  about  it  at  the  Rue  de 
Courcelli  Some  blamed,  some  admired  the 
courage  ol  the  Emperor,  who  was  certainly 
showing  a  firm  determination  to  please  himself 
ami  consult  no  one.  He  was  no  doubt  rather 
sore  on  the  subject  of  an  European  alliance. 
i  t  France  would  soon  need  an  Empress  and 
an  heir  was  felt  by  all  the  nation.  Would  that 
the  Empress  Eugenie  had  crowned  France  with 
as  many  "hopes"  as  the  Queen  has  bestowed 
upon   Great    Britain  ! 

1  he  betrothal  was  announced  on  January 
22,  1853,  in  il  speech  made  by  the  Emperor  to 
the  Grands  corps  reunis — the  speech  so  well 
known,    in    which    he   said — 

"When  in  the  face  ol  ancient  Europe,  one  is 
carried  by  force  oi  a  new  principle  to  the  level  of 
the  old  dynasties,  it  is  not  by  affecting  an  ancient 
descent  or  endeavouring  to  push  into  the  families 
oi  kin^s  that  <>ne  claims  recognition.  It  is  rather 
b\  remembering  one's  origin,  by  preserving  one's 
own  character,  and  by  assuming  frankly  towards 
Europe    the    position   ol    a    parvenu — a  glorious 

1 1 1 


MY  MEMOIRS 

title  when  one  rises  by  the  free  suffrages  of  a 
great  people.  Thus,  compelled  to  part  from 
precedents,  my  marriage  becomes  but  a  private 
matter.  It  has  remained  for  me  to  choose  my 
wife.  She  who  has  become  the  object  of  my 
choice  is  of  lofty  birth.  French  in  heart,  by 
education,  she  has,  as  a  Spaniard,  the  advantage 
of  not  having  a  family  in  France  to  whom  it 
would  be  necessary  to  give  honours  and  dignities. 
Gifted  with  every  quality  of  the  heart,  she  will 
be  the  ornament  of  the  throne,  as  in  the  hour  of 
danger  she  would  be  one  of  its  most  courageous 
defenders.  A  pious  Catholic,  she  will  pray  with 
me  for  the  happiness  of  France.  I  come  to-day 
to  say  to  France,  '  I  have  preferred  a  woman 
whom  I  love  and  respect  to  an  unknown  woman.' 
Soon,  on  my  way  to  Notre  Dame,  I  shall  present 
the  Empress  to  the  people  and  the  army.  The 
confidence  which  they  repose  in  me  secures  their 
sympathies  towards  her  whom  I  have  chosen, 
and  you,  when  you  have  learned  to  know  her, 
will  be  convinced  that  once  again  I  have  been 
inspired  by  Providence." 

The  Moniteur  next  day  announced  what  was 
already  to  us  an  open  secret,  that  the  lady  whom 
the  Emperor  had  chosen  was  Mademoiselle 
Eugenie  de  Montijo,  Countess  of  Teba.  Apart- 
ments were  hastily  prepared  at  the  Elysee  for  the 
reception  of  the  Montijo  family.     The  Duke  de 

112 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

Morny,   who    knew    well    in   advance  the  formal 
intentii  >:.         hi  -  br<  »ther  and  m  it 

dinner    in    honour  of   our    future  :id 

■r  lo<  iked  m<  >re  charmii 
than  i mi  that  ■  imple  toi  It 

was   on  th         /eniner    that    Madame    Walewska 
surprised   those   wh  re  not   in  the        r  t   by 

ng   Eugeni  I    ntijo  with  the  words,  "  I 

congratulate    you,    Madame,    upon    the    brilliant 
future  in  st  you." 

(  In  the  evening  of  the  29th  of  January,   1853, 
nbled  at  the    IHi I «  Mademoiselle  de 

Montijo  was  received  on  the  threshold  by  the 
1  >urt  dignitaries,  who  ushered  her  into  the  draw- 
ing-room in  which  we  comin  The 
Emperor  then  led  his  bride  to  the  Hall  of  Mar- 
shals, where  the  civil  ceremony  was  duly  performi 
by  the  Min  Lte.  After  the  signature  of 
the  marriage  c<  >ntract,  the  wedding  party  adjourn' 

the    theatre,    to    hear    Aul.er's    cantata.      The 
•  was   splendid,    and  id    to   pi  •    the- 

ir that  w  is  to  appertain  to  the  new  rtgim 
On   the  conclusion   of  the   cantata,   her   Majesty 
was  conducted  by  the  Grand  Master  of  the  I  ere 
monies  back  to  the  El 

The  following  morning  saw  the  pair  setting 
forth  in  great  pomp  for  Notre  Dame,  the  Empress 
wearing  the  Imperial  crown  which  Napoleon  1 
had  placed  on  the  head  of  Marie  Louise.  In 
front  of  the   high  altar  in  the  thronged  cathedral, 

H  .  1  ; 


MY   MEMOIRS 

the  State  chairs  of  their  Majesties  were  prominent 
on  a  raised  platform  under  a  high  canopy,  and  as 
the  notes  of  the  Wedding  March  swelled  through 
the  lofty  building  the  congregation  rose  to  watch 
the  procession  of  the  clergy  approaching  slowly 
from  the  porch  of  the  altar.  Then  the  Emperor 
himself  appeared,  leading  his  bride,  with  the 
Regent  diamond  sparkling  on  her  bosom.  It 
was  only  when  they  were  actually  approaching 
the  throne  that  the  Bishop  of  Nancy  discovered 
that  the  person  who  ought  to  have  brought  the 
wedding-ring  had  forgotten  it.  What  was  to  be 
done  ?  I  was  one  of  the  nearest  of  the  company 
assembled  about  the  throne,  and,  seeing  the 
Bishop's  distress,  and  learning  its  reason,  I  offered 
my  own  wedding-ring,  which  fortunately  hap- 
pened to  be  small  enough.  The  ceremonial  rites 
were  then  performed  by  the  Archbishop  of  Paris, 
and  the  Bishop  of  Nancy  presented  the  pieces  of 
gold  and  my  ring  on  a  gold  salver.  The  Empress 
moved  from  the  throne  to  the  altar,  and  after  the 
benediction,  in  the  Spanish  fashion  she  crossed 
her  brow,  her  lips  and  her  heart  with  her  thumb. 
At  the  close  of  the  gorgeous  ceremony,  the  Arch- 
bishop conducted  the  Emperor  and  Empress  back 
to  the  cathedral  porch,  and  Napoleon  and  his 
Consort  returned  along  the  quays  to  the  Tuileries, 
the  rest  of  us  following. 

Mademoiselle  de  Montijo  was  certainly  beauti- 
ful, and  no  one  was  astonished  at  the  caprice  of 
114 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

the  I".  iiv  People  especially  admired  her  fair 

hair.  It  will  be  remembered,  no  doubt,  that  it 
was  for  her  that  the  famous  hairdi  r,  Felix, 
invented  the  coiffure  which  has  been  so  long 
worn— the  large  bow  of  silk  or  of  velvet  which, 
arranged  like  a  chiernon,  hid  all  the  back  of  the 
head,  and  thereby  also  concealed  the  lack  of  hair. 
It  is  not  c  unmonly  known,  but  Mademoiselle 
de  Montijo  had  at  this  time  her  hair  absolut< 
short.  Gossip  has  given  a  good  many  different 
accounts  of  the  reason  for  this  deficiency  of 
coiffure.  A  certain  Due  d'Ossuna,  and  the  l)uc 
d'Aumale  were   mentioned   in  turn  as   bein<>   the 

O 

happy  mortals  who  had  profited  by  the  Spanish 
Uty's   loss  of  her  tr  But   the   truth   was 

whispered  to  me  a  long  time  ago  by  the  blue  bird 
to  whom,  they  say,  the  Empress  herself  must  have 
confided  it  in  a  moment  of  indiscretion. 

She  had  been   madly  in  love  with  her  cousin, 

the  Due  de  and  bi  1  herself  loved  by 

him.  When,  presently,  she  learned  that  he  loved 
and  was  loved  by  her  sister,  for  whom  she  had 
a  warm  affection,  her  despair  was  such  that  she- 
took  poison.  She  was  ill  for  a  long  time.  Her 
head  was  shaved  ;  her  hair  was  still  short  when 
her  mother  brought  her  to  France.  She  became 
Empress,  but,  they  say.  she  always  kept  hidden 
away  in  her  heart  the  souvenir  of  her  first  love, 
although  she  felt  no  resentment  against  her  rival, 

who  came  often  to  visit  her  in  her  exalted  position, 
»a  115 


MY  MEMOIRS 

and  who  died  in  Paris  in  a  house  which  belonged 
to  the  Empress :  a  house  which  Eugenie  had 
herself  christened  with  the  name  of  the  Hotel 
d'Albe,  and  which  she  had  razed  to  the  ground 
on  her  sister's  death,  not  desiring  that  any  other 
person  should  ever  inhabit  it.  To-day,  in  the 
place  where  were  situated  this  house  and  its  vast 
garden,  one  sees  the  Rue  d'Albe,  which  belongs 
to  the  Empress,  although  the  property  is  held  in 
the  name  of  General  BeVille. 

After  the  Empire  was  proclaimed,  we  lived  for 
some  years  in  a  small  house  in  the  Rue  Pigalle,  to 
be  quite  near  my  father,  whose  large  mansion  was 
in  the  Rue  de  Tivoli.  Here  the  reception-rooms 
were  exceptionally  fine,  a  long  suite  of  which  were 
reserved  for  entertaining,  being  quite  separate 
from,  though  communicating  with,  the  wing  in 
which  were  my  mother's  private  apartments.  We 
entertained  largely  :  dinners,  balls,  routs,  followed 
each  other  in  rapid  succession.  One  ball  remains 
engraved  on  my  memory:  the  fancy  ball,  "  Des 
Pierrettes."  All  invitations  were  sent  in  my  name, 
and  I  decided  that  every  dancer  should  be  a 
Pierrot  with  a  Pierrette  to  match,  in  couples  of 
blue  and  pink,  "  chacun  avait  sa  chacune."  The 
wall-flowers  were  in  dominoes  of  every  colour  and 
hue.  My  sister,  the  Princess  Anna,  who  was 
then  not  yet  "out,"  led  the  couples  of  pink 
Pierrots,  and  I  the  blue.  We  made  our  entrte 
about  forty  couples,  making  our  obeisance  to  our 
116 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

hostess  as  we  passed  to  the  ballroom.  The  quad- 
rilles and  different  dances,  under  the  direction  of 
Cellarius,  the  leading  dancing-master  of  Paris  at 
this  time,  went  off  to  perfection,  especially  the 
Russian  mazurka,  one  of  the  prettiest  of  the  many 
pretty  Russian  danc  ently  introduced  in  Paris 

by  Markowski.    The  orchestra  of  the  ever  famous 
Strauss  carried  us  through  an  intoxicating  whirl  of 
delight,  till   the  cotillon   ended  with   the  first  ra\ \s 
morning   light,    and    we    found   ourselves  in  a 
irge  supper-room  built  out  from  the  ballroom  on 
the  first  floor,  and  enclosing  the  whole  courtyard. 
A  hot  supper  was   prepared  for  the  guests,  who 
fully  appreciated  the  preparations  made  for  their 
entertainment.      The  cotillon  had  quite  exhausted 
our  powers,  being  led   by  M.   de  Chassiron  with 
his  usual   entrain.      He  was   the   favourite   leader 
of  the  cotillon  at  every  ball.     Who   his  partner 
v.  as  on  this  particular  occasion  my  memory  cannot 
tt-11   me,   nor  do   I    find  my   own   inscribed   on  its 
pages.      One  couple,  however,  are  still  pictured  in 
its  depths — Prince  Richard  de  Metternich  and  his 
charming    Pierrette,    Mine,    de   Lowenthal.     Nor 
must    I   forget   Baron  de    Heckren,  a  Russian  by 
birth    and    Prussian    at    heart.      We    danced    the 
mazurka  together  in  true  Russian  iashion.      I  felt 
myself  taking  an  irresistible  sweep  from  one  end 
of  the  room  to  the  other,  regardless  of  more  timid 
couples,  whose  slow,  dreamy  pace  did  not  suit  our 
impetuous  dan.  0  other   individuality  stands 

'  17 


MY  MEMOIRS 

out  before  me,  and  so  this  little  account  of  the 
Pierrettes'  ball  must  end.  I  wish  I  had  the  gift 
of  telling  as  well  as  feeling.  My  writing  seems 
to  me  like  a  melody  that  one  sings  so  beautifully 
inwardly,  but  when  the  sound  comes  it  is  all  out 
of  tune,  and  not  a  single  note  is  true  or  gives  an 
idea  of  what  you  vainly  try  to  render.  To-day  is 
the  3rd  of  July,  1902.  The  storms  so  prevalent 
everywhere  reached  us  yesterday.  Last  night 
was  fearfully  boisterous,  and  the  wind  is  still 
howling  and  cold  as  in  early  spring.  The  seasons 
seem  almost  as  changed  as  my  life  :  the  atmosphere 
as  full  of  clouds. 

My  souvenirs  of  Queen  Victoria's  visit  to 
Paris  in  1855  are  vague.  I  only  remember  the 
ball  at  Versailles  and  the  great  display  of 
diamonds,  which  flashed  even  more  brilliantly 
in  the  gilded  salons  than  did  the  illuminated 
fountains  in  the  gardens.  The  Queen  danced, 
opening  the  ball  with  the  Emperor,  while  the 
Prince  Consort  and  the  Princess  Mathilde  were 
their  vis-a-vis.  The  Empress  was  not  permitted 
thus  to  disport  herself,  as  it  was  only  a  few  months 
before  the  birth  of  the  Prince  Imperial. 

Nor  have  I  anything  special  or  individual  to 
say  of  the  other  Royal  personages  who  were 
the  guests  of  the  Emperor  and  Empress  from 
time  to  time.  The  year  1867,  year  of  the  great 
exhibition,  brought  scores  of  them  into  our  midst. 
One  might  almost  have  said,  as  Count  de  Segur 
118 


RESTORATION    OF   Till.    EMPIRE 

said    in    excuse    to    the    great    Xapoleon,    "Sire. 

irdon  my  being  late,  but  I   could  not  get  along, 

tor  the  streets  .ire   cr  1    with    kin  First 

arrived  Oscar  of  Sweden,   and    then  the  you: 

Prince  ol  <  >ran  ,-•     "  Citron  "  as  he  was  nicknamed 

by   Gramont — and    in   turn   the    King  and  Queen 

•     the    Belgians,   the    King    and    Queen   of   the 

Hellenes,   Queen    Pia  of   Portugal,   the  Duke  of 

Leuchtenburg,     the     Grand     Duchess     Marie    of 

Russia,    the    Prince    of   Wales   and   the    Duke    of 

Fdinburgh.      In  June  came   the   Czar   Alexander 

II    with  his  sons,   and   King   William   of   Prussia 

with  Prince  Frederick,  and  attended  by  Bismarck 

and  Moltke.      Later  still,  King  Humbert  of  Italy 

and  his  brother,  the  Duke  d'Aosta.     \\Te  saw,  too, 

the   Khedive,  the  Sultan   Abdul  Aziz,  a  prince  of 

Japan,    and    I     know    not     how      many    besides. 

Subsequently    the    Emperor     Francis    Joseph    of 

Austria  visited   us,   and  stayed   for  some  days  at 

Compiegne,    where    he    held    long    conversations 

with    Napoleon,    doubtless   on    the    subject   of  a 

possible    alliance     between    Austria    and    Prance 

which      might     enable     them     to     withstand     the 

threatening    enmity    of   Prussia. 

The  time  spent  at  Compiegne  was  one  year, 

enlivened    by    the    presence    of    some    beautiful 

Englishwomen  whose-  acquaintance  the  Empress 

had  made  while  on  her  visit  to  Queen  Victoria  in 

[855.     Ihe  lovely    Duchess  of  Manchester,  tl 

<  ountess  of  Westmorland,  and  poor  Lady  Mary 

.  o, 


MY  MEMOIRS 

Craven,  a  long  way  the  handsomest  and  most 
charming  of  them  all,  formed  part  of  the  joyous 
band  which  arrived  from  perfidious  Albion. 

I  remember  that  our  Prince  M.  fell  so  hope- 
lessly in  love  with  the  famous  Duchess  that  when 
she  left  he  swore  to  follow  her.  He  obtained 
an  invitation  from  the  fair  lady  and,  with  the 
Emperor's  consent,  spent  a  week  at  her  castle  in 
England.  On  his  return  the  Prince  accepted  an 
invitation  to  supper  at  the  Cafe  Anglais.  His 
friends  then  proceeded  to  make  innumerable  jokes 
of  varying  good  taste  concerning  his  recent 
expedition  ;  they  demanded  vociferously  that  he 
should  tell  them  some  anecdote  to  enliven  the 
supper.  This  is  what  the  Prince  finally  confided 
to  them.  His  visit  had  been  a  fiasco  !  It  was  not 
that  his  inamorata  had  been  unkind,  not  even  that 
the  husband  had  been  indiscreet ;  it  was  a  question 
of  accommodation  !  The  likelihood  of  a  visit  from 
the  lovesick  Prince,  needing  foreign  hospitality, 
had  not  been  foreseen.  I  need  hardly  add  that 
the  story  was  received  with  acclamation,  and  that 
the  Prince  was  congratulated  on  having  remained 
a  good  and  faithful  husband,  even  while  overseas ! 

One  evening,  just  before  my  brother's  marriage 
to  the  Princess  Salome  of  Mingrelia,  he  said  to 
Lady  Mary  Craven,  "  I  am  going  over  to  Eng- 
land next  week  to  see  about  my  servants'  liveries  ; 
is  there  any  commission  that  I  can  do  for  you?  " 

"  Bring  me  back   a  little  earth  from   Rotten 

I20 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

Row,'   she  reque  Achille  had  a  beautifully 

carved  jardiniere  made  tor  her,  and  brought  it 
back  filled  with  the  earth  she  wished  for.  How 
well  one  knows  the  feeling  !  I  have  often  longed 
for  a  breath  of  French  air  ! 

I  have  explained  win-  the  Empress  was  not 
permitted  to  dance  at  the  State  ball  at  Versailles. 

The  news  soon  got  abroad  that  an  heir  to  the 
throne  was  expe<  te  1.  The  fair  Eugenie  was 
enceinte.  Comment/  How  did  this  happen? 
you  will  ask,  when  it  had  been  affirmed  that  this 
hope  was  little  likely  to  be  fulfilled.  In  any  case, 
by  the  grace  of  God,  the  skill  of  Sir  Charles 
Locock,  a  visit  t.  >  Eaux  Bonnes,  and  by  what 
other  means  I  know  not,  the  fact  was  certain. 

It  was  on  the  1 6th  of  March,  1856,  that  the 
salute  of  twenty-one  [?  a  hundred  and  one]  guns 
announced  the  birth  of  the  Prince  Imperial.  All 
night  long  the  illustrious  patient  was  in  agony. 
Dubois  had  no  light  task.  Child-bearing  at  the 
e  of  thirty  is  not  so  easy  as  at  twenty.  It  fol- 
lowed that,  in  spite  of  all  his  skill,  Dubois  only 
succeeded  in  bringing  the  Prince  into  the  world 
by  making  .1  slight  sacrifice  of  the  mother,  who 
never  completely  recovered,  so  it  is  said,  and  who 
for  a  long  time  had  to  wear  a  plated  birth-belt,  si 
bien,  que  I'Empereur,  en  y  mettant  le  cadenas, 
aurait  pu  partir  en  guerre  comme  nos  rois  d'autre- 
fois,  sans  crainte  pour  son  honneur. 


1 .- 1 


MY  MEMOIRS 

I  have  just  been  skimming  through  a  few 
lines  of  the  book  written  by  Mme.  Carette, 
Admiral  Bouvet's  daughter.  This  lady  had  no 
fortune  whatever,  and  the  Empress  suggested  to 
the  Admiral  that  his  daughter  should  come  to  her 
as  companion  and  reader.  Mile.  Bouvet,  who 
was  a  very  lovely  person,  was  not  long  in  making 
a  rich  match,  thanks  to  her  sovereign's  favour. 
A  certain  Monsieur  Carette — a  man  of  no  great 
worth,  I  believe,  unless  it  be  the  worth  due  to  an 
income  of  a  hundred  thousand  francs — sought  the 
hand  of  the  young  lectrice  and  was  duly  accepted. 

Reading  the  few  words  which  Mme.  Carette 
devotes  to  the  Prince  of  Orange  reminds  me  of  a 
little  anecdote  which  finds  its  place  naturally  in 
here.  I  do  not  know,  and,  besides,  it  is  not  for 
me  to  say,  whether  or  not  the  Prince  of  Wales 
had  an  affection  for  him  whom  Mme.  Carette  calls 
the  Prince  Citron.  I  will  not  say,  as  she  does, 
that  the  Prince  of  Orange  "  was  worth  more  than 
his  reputation."  I  will  only  state  that  he  was 
pleasant,  witty,  a  good  comrade,  a  good  friend, 
and,  if  I  say  a  "  bon-vivant,"  I  must  add  that  he 
was  no  more  so  than  those  who  surrounded  him 
and  who  formed  the  gilded  youth  of  the  Empire. 

The  Empress  used  to  give  him  maternal  scold- 
ings, on  account  of  his  fastness ;  scoldings  which 
he  received  with  the  politeness  and  good  taste  of 
a  man  of  the  world,  coupled  with  the  wheedling 
manner  of   a   spoilt    child.     For   who  would  be 

122 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

daring  enough  to  deny  the  incontestable  beauty 
of  Mile,  de  Montijo  ?  A  ity  which  no  French- 
man can  deny,  sine-  it  was  this  fatal  beauty  which 
swept  the  Emperor  offhis  feet! 

It  is  to  this  charm  of  which  Mme.  Carette 
speaks,  and  to  her  cleverness,  that  Mile,  de 
Montijo  owes  her  twenty  years  as  Empress  of 
the   French  ! 

t,  having  myself  lived  with  her  so  often,  1 
see  as  I  read  that  the  writer  has  ignored  parti- 
cular faults  of  hair,  "t  teeth,  and  of  certain  details 
which  exist  even  among  the  Venuses  of  to-day. 
Is  it  that  Mme.  Carette  has  wished  to  immor- 
talize herself  by  immortalizing  the  Empress? 
Everyone  knows  that  at  Court  Mine.  Carette  was 
reputed  to  bear  an  extraordinary  resemblance  to 
Mile,  de  Montijo.  Is  this  why,  in  all  the  accusa- 
tions levelled  against  the  Empress  in  her  book — 
serious  accusations  against  the  woman,  accusations 
of  ingratitude  towards  her  saviour  and  towards  her 
friends — Mme.  Carette  has  not  dared  to  raise 
these  questions  of  personal  delect  ?  Is  it  because, 
beiiiL,r  a  woman,  she  has  not  been  able  to  forgive 
M.  O'  [?]  for  not  having  recognized  in  the  Empress 
a  taste  in  furniture  which,  I  should  imagine,  no 
one  would  be  prepared  to  disput 

Madame  Carette  glides  over  many  events  in 
'.  ipoleon's  reign,  barely  touching  on  them,  with 
a  reticence  which  commands  admiration.  But 
before    the   last  crucial   years   she    arrives    at    an 

'-3 


MY  MEMOIRS 

abrupt  stop.  Indeed,  when  one  comes  to  think  of 
it,  what  could  she  say  of  this  woman,  whom  she  is 
trying  to  paint  in  most  favourable  colours  ?  Did 
she  not  lay  down  her  pen  before  reaching  that 
fatal  year  1870? 

But  to  return  to  my  story.  It  was  on  an 
evening  in  spring,  I  no  longer  remember  in 
which  year,  that  two  Princes  of  royal  blood  and 
a  certain  Duke,  after  one  of  the  most  gay  and 
exciting  of  dinners,  betook  themselves  (I  know 
not  why)  to  the  Mabille  Gardens,  at  that  time 
notorious  for  exhibitions  of  the  cancan  dance.  I 
am  not  aware  of  what  then  ensued.  Perhaps  on 
that  evening  the  high  kicking  of  Rogolbosche  had 
been  even  more  expressive  and  even  less  respect- 
able than  usual.  Be  that  as  it  may,  the  police  inter- 
vened, and  the  poor  Princes,  as  well  as  the  Duke, 
were  haled  off  to  the  "  lock-up."  What  was  to  be 
done  ?  Should  they  give  their  names  and  betray 
the  incognito  of  the  Crown  Princes  of  two  great 
nations  ?     It  was  not  to  be  thought  of! 

The  Duke,  therefore,  resolved  to  sacrifice  him- 
self; he  asked  for  writing  materials  and  sent  a 
letter  to  a  Prince  who  was  a  friend  of  his,  begging 
him  to  come  without  delay  to  extricate  him  and 
his  companions  from  their  awkward  situation. 
The  Prince  (a  relation  of  the  Emperor,  and,  con- 
sequently, all-powerful  in  such  a  matter)  went 
instantly  to  the    police-station  and  liberated  the 

culprits. 
124 


RESTORATION    OF   THE    EMPIRE 

The    Prince   of  Orange,  one  of  the  two  con- 
cerned, never  forgot  this  service,  and,  in  his  turn, 
able  to  assist  the  Prince  in  the  matl  the 

ibaret  "  related  by  Madame  Carette.  It  I  am 
silent  as  to  the  nam--  of  the  other  party  it  is  that  I 
bow  respectfully  to  his  incognito.  I  cannot  ter- 
minate- this  without  saying  a  few  words  about  the 
sad  death  of  the  Noun-  Prince  of  Orange. 

I    was  no  longer  in  France  at   the  time  of  his 

th,  but  1  have  been  told  that  he  had  an  attack 
of  typhoid  fever,  that  he  was  getting  better,  and 
that  the  doctors  thought  him  out  ni  danger.  A 
ball  was  i  given  at  which  he  had  promised  to 

appear.  In  spite  of  the  doctors,  in  spite  of  the 
sick-nurse,  lie  went  there  in  very  cold  weather. 
Alas!  He  had  a  relapse,  from  which  he  did  not 
recover. 

It  is  said  that  the  Prince  had  a  superstition. 
1 1'-  always  avoided  any  undertaking  on  the  sixth  or 
on  the  eleventh  of  a  month.  These  two  numbi 
so  he  declared,  were  invariably  fatal  to  him.  He 
never  made  a  wager  at  the  races  on  horses  bearing 
these  numbers  on  the  card.  1  le  was  right,  poor 
Prince  !      1  le  died  (M\  the  i  ith  at  6  a.m. 


'-5 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE    COURT    OF    THE    SECOND    EMPIRE 

Strauss— Visit  of  the  King  of  Piedmont  and  the  marriage 
of  Princess  Clotilde  and  Prince  Napoleon — Character 
of  Napoleon  III — Example  of  his  wit — Family  dinners 
and  Sunday  evenings  at  the  Tuileries — How  Senators 
were  chosen  when  the  Empress  Eugenie  reigned  at  the 
Tuileries — A  Shrove  Tuesday  cavalcade— Sur  la  tranche — 
Perilous  gymnastics  and  inconvenient  crinolines — Madame 
Biadelli— Casabianca  and  his  family — Madame  Heine's 
legacy— General  Galliffet— His  duel  with  Prince  Achille 
— The  notorious  Rochefort — Madame  de  Galliffet — The 
Dinner  of  the  Twenty  Beauties— Princess  de  Metternich 
—A  Lenten  Ball— The  Comtesse  de  Castiglione— The 
Ballet  of  the  Bees— Tableaux  Vivants— The  Emperor's 
escape  from  assassination — Gossip  and  scandal — The 
shadow  of  tragedy — The  mysterious  death  of  Camerata 
and  its  sequel— The  Court  at  Biarritz— Letters  from 
Princess  Anna — Her  marriage  with  the  Duke  de 
Mouchy 

These  pages  are  at  best  only  a  tangled  jumble  of 
reminiscences  intermixed  with  feelings  caused  by- 
passing events,  and  so  it  is,  as  I  read  the  Figaro 
to-day  [5th  June,  1902]  and  see  recorded  the 
death  of  Strauss.  How  the  name  before  my  eyes 
brings  back  pictures  of  brilliantly-lighted  rooms, 
of  happy  faces,  of  joyous  sounds  of  music,  of  youth 
and  grace  and  swiftly- flying  feet !  I  hear  the 
126 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

'-known  echo  mi  Strauss's  waltzes  -oh,  the 
merry,  laughing  nights  of  long  ago  !  And  now 
the  orchestra  plays  the  ever  famous  waltz  which 
tells  that  the  ball  is  drawing  to  its  close — now 
the  cotillon  begins— then  the  little  hot  supper 
:  rve  1  for  the  dancers— after  which  the  curtain 
goes  down,  more-  often  as  day  is  dawning.  The 
ball  is  over  only  to  begin  again  the  next  night, 
and  so  on  all  through  the  carnival,  year  after  year. 
And  year  upon  year,  no  doubt,  the  "  Blue 
Danube  '  will  still  be  played  and  the  Strauss 
waltzes  will  guide  other  feet  in  their  mazy  whirl, 
though  Strauss  himself  is  laid  low,  never  again  to 
give  the  signal  ever  so  impatiently  looked  lor  of 
yore  ! 

An  old  letter !  a  few  black  lines  on  paper, 
yellow  with  age.  How  vividly  they  bring  back 
things,  scenes,  faces,  from  the  loved  past  !  All 
seem  to  rise  as  out  of  a  fo<j  and  stand  before  me. 
1  hen  memory  rushes  to  the  long  ago  and  I  live 
again  those  years  of  youth,  of  joy,  of  gladness — 
years  ol  triumph,  Imperial  pomp  and  splendour; 
days  of  glory  and  delight,  nights  that  ran  into 
day.  A  date  and  two  words  have  set  me  dream- 
ing, and  I  must  try  to  tell  all  they  recall  to  my 
mind.  The  date  is  1859 —  the  words  Guerre 
dlla.  .  Still  further  back  my  thoughts  must 
take  me  to  the  autumn  of  1S55,  to  Compiegne — 
it  was  November.  The  King  of  Piedmont  was 
to  be  our  guest.      It    was   thought   that   a  visit  to 

127 


MY  MEMOIRS 

France  would  be  the  means  of  consolidating 
friendly  relations  between  Paris  and  Turin,  and 
secure  the  desired  marriage  of  the  Princess 
Clotilde  with  the  Prince  Napoleon.  Monsieur 
de  Cavour,  one  of  the  two  great  statesmen  of  our 
century,  did  not,  for  political  reasons,  deem  it 
advisable  to  accompany  his  King.  His  presence 
would  give  a  different  and  more  official  character 
to  the  visit.  It  fell  therefore  to  the  Marquis 
d'Azeglio,  a  very  popular  man  and  the  most 
honest  and  straightforward — a  very  difficult 
quality  to  find  in  politics — to  attend  the  young 
monarch  during  his  stay  among  us.  The  Marquis 
d'Azeglio  was  an  intimate  friend  of  my  father's, 
who,  as  I  have  said,  was  sent  during  a  short  time 
in  1850  as  Ambassador  to  the  Court  of  Turin. 
I  remember  hearing  that  Cavour  had  said  that 
the  presence  of  Azeglio  at  the  King's  side  would 
convince  Europe  that  Piedmont  was  not  infected 
with  revolutionary  ideas. 

It  was  November,  and  some  hundred  guests 
were  invited  for  the  Royal  visit,  many  distin- 
guished English  statesmen,  Lord  Palmerston, 
Lord  Cowley,  Lord  Clarendon,  and  Sir  Robert 
Peel  among  others.  The  King  was  only  to 
remain  three  days  at  Compiegne.  A  royal  hunt 
was  the  principal  attraction.  The  meet  was  at  the 
Puits  du  Roi.  We  were  much  astonished  that 
the  King,  instead  of  driving  with  their  Imperial 
Majesties,  arrived  on  horseback  like  any  ordinary 
128 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

mortal.  It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine,  and  quite 
impossible  for  me  to  describe,  the  enthusiasm,  the 
shouts,  the  noise,  the  confusion  which  announced 
our  arrival  at  the  me  The  whole  forest  of 
Compiegne  s<  I   alive,  and  every  tree  echoed 

back  the  cheers  which  greeted  us.  The  King  was 
delighted  with  the  stag  hunt,  with  its  fanfares  and 
old-world  ceremonies,  so  different  in  every  way 
from  the  hunting  customs  of  England  and  Italy. 
On  leaving  Compiegne,  the  King  and  Emperor 
appeared  to  be  on  terms  of  the  most  intimate 
friendship.  M.  de  Cavour  no  doubt  had  obtained 
the  result  he  desired.  Cavour  and  Bismarck  were 
both  destined  to  accomplish  the  great  aims  of 
their  lives — the  Unity  of  Italy  and  the  Empire  of 
Germany.  But  Bismarck,  more  fortunate  than 
<  Lvour,  lived  to  see-  his  work  accomplished. 
I  ivour  found  in  Prince  Napoleon  a  strong  ally 
who  exercised  an  influence  with  the  Emperor  few 
persons  could  boast  of.  The  Emperor  cherished 
a  true  and  sincere  friendship  for  Prince  Napoleon 
— friendship  formed  in  the  days  of  their  youth, 
which  the  Emperor  n  :ver  forgot.  The  marriage 
of  Princess  Clotilde  with  Prince  Napoleon, 
although  an  outcome  of  this  visit,  was  not  an 
absolute  condition  of  the  Franco  Italian  alii. mce, 
but  the  Emperor's  insistence  on  the  point  made 
it  practically  such.  His  quiet  insistence  upon  a 
desired  measure  or  policy  often  resulted  in  his 
gaining    his   point;     but    Liter   there    came    the 


MY   MEMOIRS 

influence  of  a  will    stronger  and    more   insistent 
than   his  own. 

The  Emperor  Louis  Napoleon's  was  a 
character  difficult  to  read,  understood  by  few. 
He  will  appear  in  history,  to  generations  to 
come,  as  a  sphinx.  He  was  so  to  us,  though  we 
knew  him  so  intimately.  We  were  at  Compiegne 
in  June  1861  when  an  officer  arrived  with  the 
intelligence  of  the  death  of  Cavour.  It  was  a 
surprise  to  us  all.  I  looked  to  see  how  it 
affected  the  Emperor.  I  shall  never  forget  my 
astonishment  and  the  far-away  look  of  dreamy 
satisfaction  that  stole  over  his  face  as,  with  a  sigh 
of  relief,  he  expressed  his  deep  regret.  Cavour, 
whose  energy  and  genius  had  prepared  the  Unity 
of  Italy,  died  at  the  moment  when  he  hoped 
to  crown  his  efforts  by  giving  Rome  to  Victor 
Emmanuel  for  his  Italian  Capital.  So  our  occupa- 
tion of  Rome  guarded  it  for  the  Holy  Father. 

Any  one  who  knew  the  Emperor  as  well  as  I 
did  could  not  fail  to  see  the  perfect  truth  of  the 
following  portrait  of  his  character  written  by  one 
of  his  most  devoted  subjects,  from  whom  I  beg  to 
borrow  it — 

"When  one  approaches  him  closely,  when  one 
sees  him  in  his  private  life,  as  simple  and  as 
modest  in  the  sunshine  of  the  most  brilliant  suc- 
cess as  the  least  and  meanest  of  his  subjects  ; 
when  one  finds  oneself  confronting  this  fortune- 
favoured  man,  who  is  so  distinguished  in  his 
130 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND   EMPIRE 

manners  yet  without  the  shadow  of  pretentious- 
ness, ut  i  ill  arrogan  .  ol  v  init)  ;  when 
one  sees  him  apply  his  high  and  noble  intelligence 
and  his  most  upright  and  perfect  go  '.  to  all 
questions  at  issu  ily  understands  the 
•  his  reign.  Then  again,  when  one 
has  seen  him  in  moments  of  peril  show  him 
the  most  intrepid  of  men,  it  is  impossible  not  to 
be  completely  won  and  (.harmed  by  him.  But  if 
oik-    penetrates    deeper    still    into    his   heart   and 

a  wit:.  .   the   stn.  i    his    . 

against    his    natural    goodness  —  stru.  which 

were    always    def<  I     ften  i  ters — one 

pities  this  prince,  so  good,  so  generous,  and  so 
indulgent  for  his  inability  to  strike  and  punish 
those  who  deserved  to  be  punished.  One  under- 
stands with  what  fatal  facility  this  noble  spirit  can 
fall  a  victim  to  intrigue,  and  one  recognizes  from 
external  as  well  as  internal  signs  the  secrets  of  his 
errors,  the  weaknesses  and  shortcomings  of  his 
statesmanship." 

Does  not  this  show  only  too  plainly  wh.a  I 
have   tried  to  make  clear  in  all  I  have  said  ? 

I  wish  I  could  recollect  some  of  the  smart 
sayings  and  witt)  repartees  of  the  Emperor.  They 
were  many,  but  only  one  occurs  to  me  as  1  write. 

A  large  dinner-part)-  preceded  one  of  the 
"Lundis'  tin-  Empress.  Each  week  during 
the  winter  season  till  Lent,  there  was  dancing  at 
the  Palace,  called  "  les  petits  bals  de  l'lmpera- 
trice,"  or  "  Les  Lundis."  On  a  particular  Monday 
the  Archbishop  of   Pari,  was  one  of  his  Majesty's 

I    2  13I 


MY   MEMOIRS 

guests.  After  dinner  he  and  the  Emperor  were 
conversing  when  the  Archbishop  suddenly  became 
aware  that  ladies  in  laces  and  diamonds  surrounded 
him — that  dancing  was  about  to  begin.  "  Ah  ! 
Sire,"  he  exclaimed  in  alarm,  "  permettez  moi  de 
me  sauver  bien  vite."  .  .  .  The  Emperor  de- 
taining him,  "  Mais,  Sire,"  objected  the  Arch- 
bishop, "  voyez,  je  suis  chasse"  par  les  eJDaules." 
The  Emperor,  with  the  quick  wit  we  all  knew  so 
well,  then  smiled  as  he  said  :  "  Alors  les  saints 
(sezns)  doivent  vous  retenir  " — and  the  Archbishop 
ran  the  faster,  laughing  on  his  way. 

The  New  Year  was  always  the  occasion  of  a 
special  family  gathering  at  the  Tuileries.  One 
was  busy  from  early  morning.  At  mid-day  there 
was  mass,  while  the  afternoon  was  spent  in  paying 
and  in  receiving  calls.  In  the  evening  there  was 
a  family  dinner-party,  from  which  none  of  us  was 
allowed  to  be  absent  on  pain  of  giving  serious 
offence.  This  was  the  great  family  reunion  of 
the  year.  But  every  Sunday  evening  also  we 
were  expected  to  be  present  at  the  dinner  strictly 
confined  to  members  of  the  family.  The  Princess 
Mathilde  frequently  excused  herself.  She  had 
no  great  sympathy  with  the  Empress,  and  avoided 
as  many  of  the  Court  functions  as  her  rank  and 
position  would  allow,  while  the  Empress  made  no 
secret  of  her  coldness  towards  the  Princess. 
Sometimes,    too,   the   chair    reserved  beside  her 

Majesty  for  Prince  Napoleon  was  vacant.  But  I 
132 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND   EMPIRE 

had  not  the  privi  enting  m  :id 

every  Sunday  evening  I  was  obliged  to  take  my 
place  at   the  table.     Oh  !  the  boredom   of  the 

Ltherings,    which  1  g  tiety  and  life,    which 

were  lutel)  void  of  witt  versation,  and  in 

which  there  was  no  thought  sa\  to  who  should 

have  pr<  —a  struggle  which   was  renewed 

.    during   the  fifty-two  weeks  ol  the 

r!  How  tired  1  grew  of  all  the  jealousy,  ol 
the  empty  life,  the  formality,  of  these  Court 
intrig  tty   vexations!      Only 

when    the   hour   came    to   retire    could    I    breathe 
freely  ! 

After  dinner  it  was  more  agreeable,  for  other 
people  were  received,  and  something  amusing 
would  happen.  The  Empress  used  to  go  into  her 
favourite  corner  of  the  drawing-room,  and  there, 
surrounded  by  her  most  intimate  friends,  she 
used  to  get  the  Prefect  of  Police  to  tell  anec- 
dot<  The  Prefect's  tales,  as  you  may  imagine, 
were  highly  spiced  ;  and  her  Majesty  enjoyed  the 
most  adventurous  situations.  The  more  highly 
flavoured  was  the  story,  the  more  did  our 
Sovereign  appreciate  it. 

There  was  music,  of  course.  Sometimes  we 
play<  d  at  hide-and-seek,  hunt  the  slipper  or  blind 
man's  buff,  sometimes  at  "clumps,"  or  guessed 
riddles,  of  which  her  Majesty  was  particularly 
fond.  Eugenie  de  Montijo  always  had  the 
reputation    ol    possessing    a    ready,    if  somewhat 


MY   MEMOIRS 

cruel,  wit.  This  attribute  did  not  desert  her 
when  she  attained  Imperial  rank.  It  contributed 
greatly  to  the  gaiety  of  the  Court,  but  to  it  she 
surely  owed  her  most  influential  enemies.  Many 
anecdotes  narrated  in  this  connection  are  exag- 
gerated or  wholly  invented,  but  one  instance  I 
remember  of  a  jest,  too  indelicate  for  publication, 
which,  originating  from  the  Empress  herself, 
went  the  rounds  of  the  Court  circles,  and  had 
the  effect  of  keeping  Baron  Haussmann  away 
from  the  Tuileries  for  a  considerable  time. 

These  references  to  the  Sunday  evening 
entertainments  at  the  Tuileries  bring  back  an 
incident  to  my  memory.  There  was  to  be  a 
nomination  of  senators,  and  the  number  of 
vacancies  was  limited  to  three  or  four  seats.  The 
list  of  candidates  was  a  long  one,  for  the  Empress, 
the  ministers,  the  male  and  female  favourites,  all 
had  their  own  man  in  mind.  One  Sunday  night 
the  Emperor  drew  from  his  pocket  a  list  of  the 
most  fancied  candidates,  among  whose  names  was 
that  of  M.  Prosper  Merimee,  a  protege  of  the 
Empress,  for  the  honour.  I  say  "  a  protege  of  the 
Empress,"  for  that,  I  believe,  was  his  sole  claim 
to  the  Emperor's  choice.  What  was  to  be  done  ? 
Some  had  incontestable  rights  to  favour,  others 
had  the  favour  without  the  rights.  Suddenly  the 
Empress  decided  the  matter.  Taking  a  hat 
belonging  to  one  of  the  gentlemen,  she  wrote  with 
her  own  hand  all  the  names  on  little  slips  of 
i34 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND   EMPIRE 

paj  Th-  ;   in  the  hat,  which  she 

handed    to   the    Emperor.      He    drew   a    name. 
Fortune  once  more  favouring  beauty,  he  held  that 

of   Pi  M    ::mee.      That     is    how    the    gi 

dignitari         I    State  appointed    when    the 

Empr       E  nvd  at  the  Tuileries.     Why 

:ak  of  merit?  Wit  was  the  only  requisite — 
especially  the  wit  which  enabled  a  man  to  please 
the  Empres 

I  had  spent  part  of  the  winter  and  spring  of 
1865  in  Italy.  We  came  back  to  Paris  at  the 
end  of  the  carnival.  The  Duke  de  Morny  had 
just  died  and  the  Court  was  plunged  in  grief. 
The  Empress,  who  only  thought  of  fetes  and 
amusements,  asked  herself  what  was  to  be  done 
r  Shrove  Tuesday,  without  balls,  fancy  dress, 
or  masks.  A  council  was  held.  I  can  still  see 
her  surrounded  by  her  intimate  friends  at  about 
five  o'(  lock  the  hour  of  tea,  served  in  her  study. 
It  was  the  same  study  which  a  few  hours  before 
had  been  littered  with  all  the  private  papers  of 
M.  de  Morny,  seized  by  order  of  the  Empress. 

Suddenly  in  her  natural  exuberance  of 
spirits,  her  Majesty  had  a  (plaint  idea  ;  doubtless 
some  fancy,  a  memory  of  her  bohemian  youth 
passed  through  her  brain.  Sitting  astride  a  chair 
and  grasping  it-,  side  bars  as  if  they  were  the 
reins   <>f   a   hi  he   by   hep   looks   invited    tl 

others  to  do  the  same.     Soon  ladies  and  gentle 
men    alike    mounted    their    w     A<-\\    steeds,   and   a 

135 


MY   MEMOIRS 

regular  Shrove  Tuesday  cavalcade  ensued,  going 
round  and  round  the  large  room  after  the 
Empress,  to  the  accompaniment  of  the  trumpet- 
ing and  boisterous  calls  of  the  hunting-field. 

There  was  no  fatted  ox,  even  Cupid  was  absent, 
but  the  enthusiasm  of  the  mimic  chase  was  at  its 
height  when  a  little  door  was  heard  to  turn  on  its 
hinges  and  a  huge  setter  dog  rushed  up  the  little 
spiral  staircase  and  bounded  into  the  room.  It 
was  the  forerunner  of  his  Majesty  the  Emperor ! 
As  if  by  magic,  there  was  a  dead  silence.  The 
ladies  returned  demurely  to  their  arm-chairs,  the 
men  stood  upright  to  salute — all  save  one,  who 
would  not  face  the  master  with  deception.  Hence 
poor  Dupuy  was  hastily  pushed  under  the  table, 
which  was  covered  by  a  large  cloth  reaching  to 
the  floor !  The  Emperor  entered,  made  amiable 
remarks  to  those  around  him.  There  was  a 
glance  for  Madame  Walewska,  a  smile  for 
Madame  de  Cadore,  a  kindly  word  for  the  Princess 
Anna  Murat,  while  we  all  trembled,  watching 
Nero's  inconvenient  persistence  in  scenting  out 
his  hidden  quarry  and  standing  "  on  point  "  at 
the  table  to  attract  the  attention  of  his  master, 
who  suspected  nothing  as  yet.  What  was  to  be 
done?  The  Emperor  had  to  be  enticed  away  at 
all  costs,  and  one  of  the  ladies  sacrificed  herself. 
As  far  as  my  memory  serves  me,  it  was  Madame 
de  Persigny.      In  any  case,  I  shall  injure  no  one 

by  naming  her.     On  prite  aux  riches. 
136 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

And   that  is  how  Shrove    Tuesday  was  c< 
brated  at  the  1  of  the  Tuileries  in  1865. 

I  could  tell  many  anecdotes  of  this  nature  to 
illustrate  the  levity  which  underlay  the  formalities 

of  the  Court.     I  can  no  longer  remember  th 

but  we  were  at   Fontainebleau  in  the  springtime. 

We  were  en  '   in  .1  paper-chase,  and  the  man 

wh<>  is  called  "  the  fox  "  had  done  his  work  so  well 
that  we  who  were  "the  hounds'  had  strayed 
1  long  way  from  the  chateau  and  were;  utterly 
tired  out  with  running.  I  still  seem  to  feel  my 
poor  legs  scarcely  bearing  my  weight,  while-  the 
Empress,  wearing  high  heels,  was  obviously 
exhausted.  Suddenly  I  saw  Comte  de  Castel- 
bajac,  and  another  man,  perhaps  the  Marquis  de 
roulongeon,  bringing  forward  a  long  branch  from 
one  of  the  trees.  Going  down  on  their  knees  and 
placing  the  bough  between  them  across  their 
shoulders,  they  invited  the  Empress  to  take  her 
seat  upon  it.  This  she  did  readily,  and  rode  it 
astride  at  that  !  Certainly  she  is  a  plucky  woman, 
for  she  rode  back  the  whole  way  to  the  chateau 
like  this,  without  uttering  a  single  sigh  or  com- 
plaint. Nevertheless,  the  branch  was  not  won- 
derful  enough  to  preserve  the  Imperial  imprint. 
Doubtless  if  it  had  done  so,  the  gentlemen 
would  have  kept  it  as  an  an.  ient  but  precious 
souvenir. 

I  had  just  finished  my  fortnight's  stay  at  Fon- 
tainebleau  and  gone  back  to  Paris,  when  I  received 

L>7 


MY   MEMOIRS 

the  order  to  return  at  once.  It  would  be  going 
too  far  to  say  that  this  order  was  pleasant  to 
receive.  Nevertheless  I  obeyed.  I  arrived  at 
five  o'clock  in  the  evening  and  found  her  Majesty 
in  her  dressing-room  with  Princess  Bacciochi 
and  a  few  other  intimates.  She  was  in  a  short 
flannel  petticoat  with  a  pink  dressing-jacket 
trimmed  with  lace  and  reaching  a  little  below  the 
knees.  She  had  sent  for  me,  acting,  as  always,  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment,  because  she  had  just 
discovered  that  Princess  Anna  Murat,  who  was 
then  only  seventeen  years  old,  had  been  (and  I 
use  her  own  words)  stung  by  a  tarantula  and 
insisted  on  marrying  the  Marquis  de  Massa. 

The  poor  Marquis  was  certainly  one  of  the 
many  admirers  of  my  sister,  but  the  young 
Princess  did  not  favour  him  to  this  extent.  She 
used  to  call  Massa  her  mocking-bird.  Later  on 
he  became  the  author  of  a  little  unpublished 
comedy  which  was  played  at  Compiegne,  and  the 
Empress,  who  was  a  very  good  dancer,  performed 
several  Spanish  dances  in  a  short  skirt  between 
the  acts. 

Massa  had  a  pretty  turn  for  verse-making. 
Here  I  copy  an  acrostic  which  he  addressed  to 
myself. 

C  'etait  un  reve  hier  que  ce  ton  familier, 
A  ujourd'hui  qu'  entre  nous  cet  aimable  jeu  cesse, 
R  eprends  ton  rang,  ton  titre  et  redeviens  princesse  .  .  . 
O  u  le  respect  commande  il  faut  toujours  plier. 
138 


(  OURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

I   1  faut  [  tie, 

N 

le  plu  I  Amitie. 

I     rem  '     days    at    F<  >nt  tinebl 

endeavouring  ilm  the  anxiety  of  the  Empres 

to  tl  »ung  relative  having 

any  niairiinoni.il  d  iwards  the  Marquis. 

The  day  after  my  arrival,  a  long  country  walk 
1.      It   was   not   a   hunting  day,   and 
there    was   nothinj         rticular   to   do.     A   certain 
number  ol  the  gu  pted  the  walk  with  the 

Em  The   Em]  was  working  that   il\.\ 

and  did   not  accompany  us.     We   started  off  on 
this    picnic  lition.       Her    Majesty    Eugenic 

went  on  with  her  intimate  friends   Duperre 

and  company.       When    we   arrived  at  the   rocks, 
it    was    si  that    '         hould   lunch    on    the 

grass,    and    during    the    preparation    of  the    meal 
:ry  one  wan  f,  more  or  less  in  couples. 

As    I    saunt  along,  imagine  my   astonish- 

ment at  s  the  Em]  A  Ldame  de  Cadore, 

and  one  or  two  other  ladies  climbing  up  a  very 

p  path  in  the  precipitous  cliff     Each  lady,  led 
by  the   Empress,   was  supported  by  her  cavalier, 
who  from  time  to  time  helped  the  difficult  ascent 
by  pushing  from  behind,   thus  also  preventing 
retrograde  movement  and  averting  a  catastrophe 

n  the  wind   interfered   with  the  inconvenient 
crinoi 

'  $9 


MY   MEMOIRS 

I  do  not  know  if  the  ladies  found  amusement 
in  this,  but  I  imagine  so  from  the  exclamations 
and  laughter  which  reached  me.  In  any  case,  it 
was  a  very  amusing  and  certainly  a  very  curious 
sight  for  an  ordinary  passer-by  to  see  these 
perilous  gymnastics  introduced  to  the  Court  of 
France  by  this  young  girl  who  had  suddenly 
become  Empress,  and  who  very  naturally  had 
preserved  the  customs  and  tastes  of  her  youth 
passed  in  Spain  in  running  about  the  country  on 
her  mule  with  her  young  friends. 

A  letter  has  just  brought  me  the  news  of  the 
death  of  Mme.  Biadelli,  sending  my  thoughts  back 
to  people  and  events  of  long-forgotten  years.     It 
was  in  the  autumn  of  1849  that  I  first  made  her 
acquaintance.      My  father  was  proceeding  to  Turin 
as  Ambassador  at  the  Court  of  Victor  Emmanuel. 
My  mother,  slowly  recovering  from  a  long  illness, 
was  unable  to  accompany  him.     We  were  living 
at   that  time   in    the  Rue    d'Anjou    St.    Honore. 
M.   Biadelli  was  the  officer  selected  as  Attache 
Militaire   on    the    Ambassador's   staff.     A   true 
Corsican,  military  to  the  backbone,  both  in  man- 
ners and  appearance,  and  to  the  day  of  his  death 
— which  occurred  some  years  after  the  downfall 
of  the   Empire  as  the  result   of  a  fall  from  his 
horse — proved  himself  a  most  devoted  follower 
and  friend.      His   wife  was  young,   tall,   and    no 
doubt   some   would  say  pretty — a  brunette   with 
rather   regular    features  and  eyes,   the   most    in- 
140 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

teresting   feature,   brown    with    a    yellow    tint    in 

them,  and,  st  indi  it  in  her  face  like  a  poached 

egg,  the      >rt  of  thing  we  in  our  flowery   French 

langu  Lge    call  a   fleur  de  tUe.     Sh  a 

1      sican,  daughter  of  Comte  de   Casabianca,   ol 

whom   I  have  spoken  somewhere  as  made  use  ol 

by    tli--    Emperor    for  the  purj  ol    forming  a 

Ministry  after  the  "deux   Decembre" — with  title 

of  Ministre  d'Etat,   what  is  here  called   Premier. 

He   was  only  a  short  time  in  .    1    fancy   for 

ns.     Tin-  first,  he  was  too  honest,  looked 

far    too    strictly    into    things    and    people.     The 

id,  he  had  a  lai  imily  in  the  woman  line  : 

th:  1  unmarried  daughters,  who  inter!   red  in 

all  political  and  matters,  undertook  to  open 

dispatches,    to   give   orders  in  the  offices,   to  the 

cretary  and  Chief  of  Offic  ■  ;   a  horde  of  young 

Corsican    cousins    who    all    were    given    emplo)  - 

ment,  and  a   wife,  good    woman,   absolute  cipher, 

neither   intelligent   nor   highly  educated  and  put 

entirely    in    the    background    by    her   daughters. 

Madanv    Biadelli   was  by  far   the   most  amiable 

and    the    most    liked.     The    youngest    daughter, 

then  called  "petite   Eugenie"  because  young   in 

comparison  with  the  others,   married  a   fellow  by 

name  Ferry  d'Escland,  a  clerk  in  the  ("ours  d 

Comptes.      I    hear    of   late    years    he    has    come 

itly   into  favour.     Why,   or   wherefore?     He 

helped    Madame    Heine  in    her  charities,  and   was 

left   by    her  a    legacy.     The    Pope    created    him 

'4' 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Duke  Ferry  d'Escland,  one  wonders  for  what 
services ! 

Speaking  of  Madame  Heine  and  her  legacies, 
an  amusing  story  occurs  to  me.  A  very  old  and 
intimate  friend  at  Court,  and  one  we  all  liked, 
Admiral  Charles  Duperre,  became  after  the  war 
un  des  intimes  at  Madame  Heine's,  and  a  real 
friendship  grew  between  them.  Duperre,  as 
honest  as  he  was  poor,  had  hoped — perhaps  this 
is  saying  too  much,  yet  I  believe  he  had  reason 
to  think — that  in  the  disposal  of  her  immense 
fortune  he  would  be  remembered.  He  received 
a  beautiful  old  clock,  with  a  line  in  her  hand- 
writing saying  she  had  left  him  the  timepiece 
which  had  marked  so  many  hours  of  charming 
intercourse. 

It  has  always  been  interesting  to  me  to  observe 
the  readiness  of  certain  friends  of  the  Empire  to 
take  service  under  the  Republic  ;  as  in  the  case  of 
the  Marquis  de  Galliffet  when  he  became  Minister 
of  War  in  1899.  There  was,  I  suppose,  a  feeling 
of  danger  ahead,  and  all  parties  saw  the  necessity 
of  making  a  sacrifice  for  the  country.  Otherwise, 
could  General  de  Galliffet  have  accepted  office  in 
such  company  ?  Galliffet !  how  familiar  it  sounds 
— and  oh !  how  strange  it  all  seems  to  me  looking 
back — Captain,  chef  d'Escadron,  Colonel — how 
well  I  knew  him  through  his  long  career  !  He  was 
a  great  Court  favourite.  Many  are  the  amusing 
anecdotes  told  of  this  "  Poseur  pour  la  Galerie," 
142 


COURT  OF    Till-:  SECOND  EMPIRE 

who  was  .n  the  same  time  one  of  the  most  rede- 
ly brave  and  daring  of  soldii  He  I  :d 
brilliantly  during  the  Mexican  Campai          rid  at 
Puebl  i  •■'■  is                               lin  the  \o\          irt  o\ 

the  stomach.  It  is  told  how,  no  one  being  near  to 
give  him  help,  he,  with  admirable  courage,  took 
and  held  with  both  hands  his  protruding  insides 
while  he  dragged  himself  along  to  the  nearest 
ambulance.  1  [is  life  was  in  danger  tor  some  time 
— ice  was  required,  but  none  was  to  be  found. 
When  the  news  of  his  critical  condition  reached  us 
at  the  Tuileries,  their  Majesties  were  dining.  The 
Empress  held  an  ice  in  her  hand.  She  slowly  put 
it  on  the  table,  saying  :  M  I  will  never  eat  another 
ice  till  Galliffet  is  restored  to  us." 

Some  time  after  the  gallant  general's  return  to 
Paris  my  second  brother,  Prince  Achille,  took 
offence  at  a  letter  written  by  Galliffet  in  which  he 
wrote  slightingly  of  a  member  of  the  Imperial 
family.  Achille  sent  his  tJmoins,  Col.  Jerome 
Bonaparte  and  Antoine  d'Espeletta,  to  chall  n 
I  -  illiffet,  whose  own  seconds  I  forget.  Rendez- 
vous was  arranged  for  the  next  day.  It  was 
a  most  anxious  time  for  us  all.  Galliffet  was  a 
brilliant  soldier — my  brother  a  young  fellow  just 
entering  life  and  about  to  tight  only  his  second 
du<-l.  At  the  Avenue  Montaigne  we  each  had  our 
suite  i  it  private  apartments  ;  my  lather's  overl<  toked 
the  Avenue,  mine  tin:  Rue  Jean-Goujon,  just 
Opposite  where  the  great  tire  of  the    Bazaar    de  la 

i  \  \ 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Charite  took  place  some  years  ago  ;  my  brother's 
room  looked  over  the  court-yard,  and,  as  it  were, 
made  the  link  between  my  rooms  and  my  father's. 
Looking  out  of  my  dressing-room,  I  saw  into  my 
brother's.  All  that  night  I  watched  ;  the  noise  of 
the  clashing  swords  seemed  unceasing.  I  could 
hear  Espeletta's  voice  as  he  coached  his  pupil 
for  the  coming  fight.  Espeletta  was  reckoned  the 
best  swordsman  in  Paris.  Great  was  our  joy  when 
we  received  the  news,  sent  by  Col.  Bonaparte's 
courier  to  the  effect  that  the  Prince  was  safe  and 
that  Col.  Galliffet  had  received  a  slight  wound  in 
the  thigh.  He  was  lame  for  about  a  fortnight, 
perhaps  less.  My  brother's  first  duel  he  fought  in 
a  shed  with  the  notorious  Rochefort,  who  had 
publicly  insulted  him  in  the  theatre.  The  meeting 
was  in  the  forest  of  Saint-Germain,  in  the  presence 
of  the  Emperor  and  his  suite,  who  went  there 
ostensibly  for  a  day's  shooting,  but  in  reality  to 
watch  the  duel.  I  have  heard  the  seconds  tell 
how,  driven  to  the  wall,  giving  way  before  the 
attacks  of  the  Prince,  Rochefort  turned  round 
and  received  his  wound  where  the  toe  of  a  boot 
is  a  more  usual  weapon. 

Madame  de  Galliffet,  a  woman  of  most  amiable 
and  gentle  disposition,  was  one  of  the  foremost 
beauties  of  the  Empire.  Opinion  was  divided 
as  to  whether  she  or  Madame  de  Pourtales  was 
the  more  beautiful.1     They  were  both  inevitably 

1  "I  remember,"  writes  Madame  Carette  in  her  Souvenirs, 
144 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

seleci.<-<l  by  the    Empress  on  the  occasion  of  the 
celebrate  I  I 'inner  of  the  Twenty  Beauties,  giv< 
.a  the  Tuileries  to  the  Emperor  in  fulfilment  oi 
a    lost    v.  The     imitations,    SO    Kir    as    i 

feminine         tion   was    concerned,   were    confin 
to  the  most  beautiful  women  of  the  Court  circle, 
twenty   in   all.     Ol"   t'.  a   half   were    French- 

women :  the  Duchesses  de  Montmorency,  de 
Cadore,  and  de  Persigny,  the  Marquises 
1  tnizy  and  de  Las  Marimas,  the  Comtesses  de 
Pourtale's  and  de  Montebello,  and  the  Baronn 
de  Pierrebourg  and  de  Bourgoing.  Two  <>!  them, 
the  Duchesse  de  Morny  and  Madame  Leopold 
Magnan,  were  Russians;  the  Con  Walewska 

and  Madame  Bartholoni  were  Italians;  Baroness 
Alphonv  I  Rothschild  was  a  Jewess,  the  lovely 
Marechale  Canrobert  was  a  Scotchwoman,  the 
Marquise  de  Chasseloup-Loubat  was  a  Creole; 
and  to  these  were  added  my  sister  Princess  Anna, 
a  semi-American,  the  Marquise  de  Galliffet,  who 
was  half  English,  and  the  Princess  de  Metternich, 
who  had  to  be  included,  not  for  her  looks,  hut 
because  of  her  incomparable  wit.  Finally,  of 
course,  to  complete  the  international  galaxy,  there 
w.is  the  Empress  herself,  who  was  a  Spaniard. 


•'that  I  then  [about  1859]  saw  the  Countess  de  Pourtale's  and 
Marqu  ralliffet  for  the  first  time.     They  fa< 

other  in   the  first  quadrille.      Impossible  to   see  a  prettier  pic 
than  that  of  these  two  persons,  entirely  different   in  their 

typ  iuty,  but  equally  graceful,  lively,  and  elegant." 

K  M5 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Princess  de  Metternich,  whom  I  have  just 
mentioned,  was  one  of  the  most  prominent  of 
the  women  at  the  Court  of  the  Second  Empire. 
Her  husband,  Prince  Richard  de  Metternich,  was 
First  Secretary  to  the  Austrian  Embassy,  in  all 
the  glory  of  youth  and  social  success — an  amiable 
companion,  a  graceful  dancer,  a  delightful  causeur 
de  salon.  Later  on,  he  had  come  to  Paris  as 
Ambassador  with  this  ugliest  jolie  laide  for  wife — 
the  daughter  of  the  renowned  J ohannesberg  wine, 
Comtesse  Pauline  Sandor — whom  he  married  in 
June  1856.  Young,  clever,  witty,  ambitious,  with 
a  daring,  reckless  spirit  and  a  sharp  tongue, 
she  carried  all  before  her.  She  made  the 
brilliancy  of  Metternich's  diplomatic  career.  A 
great  favourite  at  the  Tuileries,  she  held  her 
influence  with  the  Empress  even  after  the 
downfall  of  the  Empire.  Princess  Metternich 
was  bon  garfon,  very  amusing  and  entertaining. 
Therasa's   songs  and  Rogolbosche's  kicks1  were 

1  Therasa  was  a  notorious  music-hall  star  variously  referred 
to  as  "  the  Patti  of  the  People  "  and  "  the  diva  of  the  wine- 
shops." Her  repertoire  of  libidinous  lyrics,  composed  for  her 
by  the  poets  of  the  Latin  Quarter,  included  "  La  Gardeuse 
d'Ours,"  "  Le  Sapeur,"  "  La  Reine  des  Charlatans,"  and  "  C'est 
dans  le  nez  que  ga  me  chatouille  " — a  ditty  that  was  for  a  long 
time  the  craze  of  Paris.  Rogolbosche  was  the  real  name  of 
Marguerite  Badel,  a  girl  famous  at  the  cabarets  of  Montmartre 
for  her  eccentric  dancing  and  high -flung  kicks  at  a  time  when 
the  cancan  was  coming  into  vogue.  Her  Memoirs,  which 
were  said  to  be  written  by  herself,  but  of  which  she  had  penned 
no  single  line,  went  into  six  large  editions  in  one  year.  The 
146 


COURT  OF  '111!'.  SECOND   EMPIRE 

[ually  famili  md  her  burlesque  imit 

tions  of  both   v.  that  th 

rtisemi    i     if   the 
people  flocking   in  night  disguise  to  the  Mabille 

irdens  and  the  Petit  Moulin-Rouge.      But  with 
all  her  reckli  her  love   of  adventure  and 

her  know  I  of  the   world,  she  was  herself  a 

model  oi  propriety,  and  her  name  was  never 
coupled  with  any  love  intrigue.  She  was  a 
woman  of  refined  taste,  a  fervent  partisan  ol 
Wagner  long  before  his  music  became  accept- 
able tn  the  Parisians  generally,  and  it  is  well 
known  that  it  was  she  who  prevailed  upon 
Walewski  to  allow  the  performance  of  Tann- 
kauser  at  the  Opera  in  [861.  She  introduced 
Liszt  to  the  Tuileries.  She  was  the  first  to 
recognize  the  genius  of  the  English  costumier 
Worth,  who  made  most  of  the  brilliant  and 
original  costumes  in  which  she  appeared,  and 
caused  admiring  astonishment  at  the  Court 
entertainments.  Her  love  of  private  theatricals 
added  to  the  pleasures  of  the  time,  and  she  fre- 
quently appeared  in  the  tableaux,  short  comedies 
and  charades  that  were  performed  in  the  Ion 
Gallery  of  Maps  at  Com]  Octave  Feuillet 

and    Massa   often    i  d   her   help  in  devising 

ume  consisted  of  l  d  intimate  gossip 

about  women  of  her  own  <  med  d<  ally 

to  prove  that  it  is  easier  I  >  ride  in  ;i  gil  .  than  to  starve 

crust. 

K  2  117 


MY  MEMOIRS 

such  entertainments.  She  was  by  nature  gay, 
and  her  gaiety  was  infectious.  She  was  not 
beautiful ;  her  nose  was  bad,  her  lips  were  too 
thick,  her  ears  too  pointed  ;  but  one  forgot  her 
unloveliness  when  the  Princess  spoke,  for  she 
was  the  wittiest  woman  of  her  age. 

She  was  said  to  be  eccentric.  I  should  rather 
call  her  original.  She  once  shocked  her  more 
demure  friends  by  giving  a  ball  at  the  Austrian 
Embassy  during  Lent.  Such  an  infraction  of 
religious  duty  was  amazing  ;  but  no  invitations 
were  declined.  Dancing  went  on  until  midnight, 
and  we  were  getting  hungry.  Suddenly  the 
orchestra  ceased  playing  and  the  hostess,  standing 
in  the  middle  of  the  room,  reminded  the  assembly 
that  this  was  a  Lenten  ball,  that  Lent  meant  fast- 
ing, and  she  warned  her  friends  not  to  expect  any 
supper,  although  they  might  stay  as  long  as  they 
pleased.  We  imagined  that  it  was  merely  a  joke 
made  to  hide  the  fact  that  a  supper  would  presently 
be  announced,  and  the  reputation  of  the  Embassy 
for  hospitality  be  magnificently  maintained.  No 
supper  was  served,  however,  and  the  company 
dispersed  to  get  food  elsewhere. 

On  another  occasion  Princess  Metternich  gave 
a  dinner  to  a  company  of  Court  and  diplomatic 
guests  who,  on  their  arrival,  were  amazed  at  the 
behaviour  of  some  half-dozen  of  her  servants,  who 
not  only  announced  the  names  wrongly,  but  indulged 

in  the  most  outrageous  pranks.     There  came  a 

148 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

climax  when  th  flunkies  actually  seated  them- 
selves at  the  dining  table  and  opened  their  napkins. 
But  at  this  p  >int  the  Princess  broke  into  peals  of 

laughter,  and  it  was  only  then  discovered  that  t! 

endin  .  aits  were   all   young  men  of  high 

position  and  that  the  whole  thing  was  a  got-up 
farce,  which  had  its  desired  effect  in  putting  the 
guests  into  go<  >d  humour. 

Her  husband,  Prince  Richard  de  Metternich, 
wa  principal  in  a  famous  fourfold  duel,  fought 
with  cavalry  sabres  at  Kehl  in  the  autumn  of  1S69, 
when  In-  received  an  ugly  gash  in  the  right  arm. 
The  encounter  concerned  a  woman's  honour,  but 
it  had  no  connection  with  marital  infidelity  on  tin 
j  art  ot  Metternich.  Idle  beautiful  Countess  de 
Beaumont,  sister  of  Marshal  MacMahon,  was  the 
cause  and  object  of  it.  Count  de  Beaumont  was 
inordinately  jealous.  No  man  could  even  glance 
with  admiration  at  la  bell--  Madame,  or  say  a  word 
to  her,  without  incurring  the  Count's  displeasure 
and  arousing  his  jealousy,  ami  on  this  occasion  he 
had  the  temerity  to  call  out  four  adversaries  in 
succession.  1  >uels  at  that  time  were  seldom  fatal, 
and  there  were  many  men  who  held  themselves 
ready  to  risk  an  encounter  for  the  sake  oi~  women 
whom  the)-  innocent \  admired.  M.  de  Galliffct, 
example,  was  a  rec<  »gnized  champion  of  Madame 
de  Metternich,  as  Paul  de  Ca  ignac  was  champion 
ot  the  Empress,  and  M.  de  Metternich  and  main 
others  ot  the  lovel)  I      intess  de  Beaumont.     The 

1  i  1 


MY   MEMOIRS 

gallantry  did  not  imply  any  closer  relationship. 
Of  the  Metternichs,  it  must  be  said  that  they  were 
exemplary  husband  and  wife.  No  scandal  of  love 
intrigue  or  incontinence  was  ever  breathed  in  their 
direction,  and  the  Princess,  with  all  her  reckless 
buoyancy,  was  personally  a  paragon  of  virtue. 

I  will  not  say  that  such  a  reputation  as  hers 
was  altogether  exceptional.  There  were  many 
women  of  the  Court  quite  as  free  from  blemish  as 
Madame  de  Metternich.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
it  cannot  be  denied  that  there  was  a  large  number 
whose  private  lives  and  conduct  would  not  bear 
scrutiny.  In  this  connection,  one  naturally  thinks 
of  Virginia  de  Castiglione,  who  hardly  ever 
attempted  to  cover  herself  with  a  cloak  even 
of  assumed  modesty. 

The  Countess  de  Castiglione  was  frivolous  as 
well  as  frank,  and  in  breaking  the  bounds  of 
conventionality  she  was  infinitely  more  daring 
than  Princess  de  Metternich.  She  could  take 
liberties  when  no  one  else  could.  Entirely  reck- 
less of  people's  opinion,  she  sought  only  to  please 
herself  by  creating  an  impression.  She  was  a 
Florentine,  daughter  of  the  Marchioness  Oldoini, 
and  she  came  to  Paris  about  1856,  when  she  was 
twenty,  already  married  and  a  mother.  Walewski, 
in  recommending  her  to  Count  Castiglione,  de- 
scribed her  rather  too  flatteringly,  I  consider,  as 
"the  loveliest  woman  in  Europe."  She  had 
beautiful  blue  eyes,  rich,  abundant  brown  hair,  a 
150 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND   EMPIRE 

rfect  mouth  and  dimpled  chin,  and  an  indescrib- 
ably graceful  and  statuesque  figure.  I  saw  h<  r 
first,  I  think,  at  Compiegne  in  1857,  when  she 
was  a  guest  at  the  same  time  as  the  surpassingly 
beautiful   Duchi  Ma  I  r,    whose  refin< 

an-  and  soulful   face  with  its  profile  like  an 
antique  0  were  a  constant  enjoyment  to  all 

who  beheld  her.     No  one  who  knew  them  both 

aid  hesitate  in  according  to  the  Duchess  the 
priority  for  charm  and  loveliness. 

Afterwards  I  saw  the  Countess  de  Castiglione 
frequently.  The  Princess  Mathilde  received  her 
with  cordiality  at  her  dinners  and  receptions,  and 
admired  her  beauty  so  much  that  she  commissioned 
Giraud  to  paint  a  portrait  of  her.  The  picture  was 
the  artist's  mast'  rpiece !  For  some  time,  too,  she 
was  to  be  met  at  the  Empress's  Mondays  as  well 
as  at  the  Court  balls  and  entertainments,  both  at 
the  Tuileries  and  Compiegne. 

It   was   rumoured   that   she   came   to    Paris  on 

une  sort  of  political  mission  of  intrigue,  at  the 
instigation  of  Cavour,  and  that  she  had  the 
avowed  ambition  of  taking  the  place  formerly 
occupied  by  Mi>s  Howard  in  the  amorous  atten- 
tions of  the  Emperor.  That  Cavour,  who  was  a 
statesman  of  discernment,  should  have  selected 
her  as  a  political  emissar)  is  manifestly  unlikely. 
Virginia  de  Castiglione  did  not  possess  the  subtle 
mind  of  a  diplomatist.  Her  mental  attributes, 
indeed,   were   insignificant.      Her  attractions  ami 


iqi 


MY  MEMOIRS 

abilities  were  solely  those  of  a  woman  who  knew 
she  was  beautiful  and  took  every  opportunity  to 
display  her  physical  charms.  She  danced  well, 
she  dressed  well,  she  excelled  in  the  art  of  posing  ; 
but  she  did  not  shine  in  conversation  ;  she  had  no 
wit,  no  natural  intelligence,  and  even  when  she 
made  a  desperate  effort  at  verbal  smartness  she 
came  dangerously  near  to  being  impertinent.  At 
one  of  Prince  Jerome's  entertainments  at  the  Palais 
Royal,  she  arrived  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
as  the  Emperor  and  Empress  were  leaving.  They 
met  at  the  head  of  the  stairs.  "You  arrive  very 
late,  Madame  la  Comtesse,"  said  his  Majesty. 
"  It  is  you,  Sire,  who  leave  very  early,"  she  made 
retort. 

She  took  pleasure  in  surprising  people  with 
her  pranks  and  adventures.  Her  boyish  love  of 
mischief  was  notorious.  Her  fancy  of  climbing 
to  the  roof  of  the  Louvre  at  midnight  to  hear  the 
chimes  of  the  city  was  only  one  of  her  many 
caprices.  It  was  in  her  costumes  at  fancy  dress 
balls  that  she  most  succeeded  in  creating  astonish- 
ment. At  one,  held  at  the  Ministry  of  Foreign 
Affairs  in  February  1857,  when  Madame  Walewska 
was  hostess,  she  appeared  arrayed  as  Queen  of 
Hearts  in  an  exceedingly  ddcollett  costume,  en- 
tirely open  at  the  sides  from  the  hips  downwards. 
She  wore  her  hair  flowing  loose  over  her  neck 
and  shoulders.  Her  conspicuous  ornaments  were 
crimson  hearts  thrown  as  it  were  at  random  upon 
152 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND   EMPIRE 

the  dress,  some  in  positions  that  were  d<  ly 

unexpected.      The   Empress,   congratulating    her 
upon  her  achievement,  added,   looking  at  one  of 

the  symbols   which    was   particularly  conspicuous, 
•'  But  your  heart  seems  a  little  low  down." 

She  was  conscious  of  the  beauty  ol  her  person, 
and  veiled  it  as  slightly  as  she  dared.  In  her, 
people  condoned  audacities  which  in  other  women 
would  only  have  been  shocking,  as  they  did  at 
the  carnival  ball  at  the  Tuileries  in  1863,  when 
she  startled  the  company  by  coming  as  Salammbo 
in  a  costume  of  transparent  imer,  her  bosom 

and  ankles  as  hare  as  her  beautiful  arms,  of  which 
she  was  excusably  proud.  "Would  you  like  to 
see  my  arm?'  she  would  ask,  drawing  up  her 
sleeve.  It  was  said  that  she  incurred  reprimand 
for  her  freedom  in  dress.  It  might  have  b 
expected,  for  she  was  certainly  audacious.  But  I 
only  know  of  one  occasion  of  hesitation  in  admit- 
ting her,  and  that  was  when  she  had  the  question- 
able taste  to  present  herself  at  a  hall  as  Marie  de 
Medici,  attired  in  funereal  black. 

At  the  carnival  ball  of  1863,  to  which  I  have 
just  alluded,  the  Emperor  and  Empress  both 
were  die-  ed  magnificently  in  the  Venetian  style, 
in  colours  <>l  gorgeous  crimson  and  white. 
Triii' <  ;s  Mathilde  represented  Anne  of  Cleves, 
carefully  prepared  after  Holbein's  picture  in  the 
Louvre.  One  "t  the  most  admired  costumes  was 
that  "I    Madame  Alphonsc  de   Rothschild,  repre 

'53 


MY   MEMOIRS 

senting  a  bird-of-paradise.  This  was  the  occasion 
when,  in  compliment  to  the  Emperor,  Comtesse 
Stephanie  Tascher  de  la  Pagerie  produced  her 
famous  Ballet  of  the  Bees.  It  had  been  rehearsed 
for  weeks,  and  twelve  of  the  best  dancers  of  the 
Court  had  been  drilled  under  Merante,  the  ballet 
master  of  the  Opera.  Four  huge  beehives  were 
carried  in  and,  at  a  signal  from  Strauss's  orchestra, 
the  hives  opened,  and  from  each  three  "bees" 
flew  out,  carrying  garlands  of  violets,  emblem  of 
the  Bonapartes,  as  were  also  the  bees. 

Their  Majesties  were  exceedingly  fond  of 
theatricals,  and  command  performances  were  often 
held  as  an  addition  to  the  after-dinner  entertain- 
ments at  Court.  The  Emperor  favoured  light 
comedies  and  farces ;  the  Empress  preferred 
romantic  drama  and  tragedy.  The  companies  of 
the  Com^die  Francaise  and  the  Gymnase  per- 
formed at  frequent  intervals  at  Compiegne,  but 
the  performances  given  under  the  direction  of 
Princess  de  Metternich  were  more  popular  with 
us,  and  one  knew  the  artistes  so  well.  Even 
more  attractive  were  the  tableaux  vivants,  for 
which  there  was  quite  a  rage  at  one  time.  In 
these  Mme.  de  Castiglione  excelled,  and  she  was 
always  in  request,  inventing  some  new  extrava- 
gance to  exhibit  her  faultless  shape  under  such 
favourable  conditions.  At  one  time  she  would 
appear  as  the  central  figure  of  a  classic  or  historic 
group,  or  the  curtain  would  rise  to  discover  her 
i54 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND   EMPIRE 

alone  in  some  well-studied  pose  to  represent  an 
emotion,  a  phase,  a  sentiment.  She  was  less 
varied  in  her  ns  than   Madame  de  Met 

ternich,  le  1  than  Stephanie    1     icher  de 

la  Pagerie.  Where  she  gained  in  grace  and 
beauty  of   ;  ;he   lost  in  expression.      But    it 

h  that  she  had  a  beautiful  figure. 
Brave  Marshal  Magnan's  daughters  often  assisted 
in  these  tabli  tux.  One  of  them,  the  prettiest, 
I  forget  her  name,  was  asked  by  Madame  de 
Metternich  to  represent  the  classical  figure  ol 
Eros,  the  littli  I  of  Love,  a   figure  for  which 

her  childish,  roguish  face  and  rounded  form  were 
especially  suit'  Doubtful  concerning  her  cos- 

tume, she  sent  a  message  to  her  military  parent  : 
••  Dear  Papa,  I  am  playing  Love  to-night  (jefais 
[amour  ce  soir).  I  implore  you  to  send  me  all 
1  shall  need  for  the  part."  "Certainly,"  he 
responded  promptly,  and  ot  course  he  sent  her 
nothing. 

Madame  de  Castiglione  was  one  of  the  pretty 
women  to  whom  the  Emperorwas  fond  of  making 
offerings  of  his  inevitable  sugared  almonds.  (He 
ran  up  large  accounts  with  Gouache,  the  Court 
confectioner.)  At  one  time  her  name- was  coupled 
with  his,  as  it  had  formerly  been  coupled  with 
that  of  Kin1-'  Victor  Emmanuel,  and  there  are 
some  persons  still  living  who  might  throw  light 
on  the  hidden  incident  of  "  the  Compiegne  night- 
dress   of    cambric    and    lace,1  conspicuously 


MY   MEMOIRS 

mentioned  in  her  will.  It  was  known  to  all  the 
Court  that  the  Emperor's  visits  to  her  house  in 
Rue  de  la  Pompe  had  no  official  or  political 
significance.  The  liaison  was  too  obvious  to  be 
disguised.  One  visit  in  particular  was  talked 
about  pretty  freely,  for  the  reason  that  it  was  in 
connection  with  it  that  he  narrowly  escaped  the 
knife  of  an  assassin.  He  had  gone  incognito  in 
his  small  coupe\  entering  by  the  secret  door 
reserved  for  his  exclusive  use  on  such  nocturnal 
occasions,  and  was  leaving  the  house  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  when,  as  the  carriage  was 
being  driven  out  from  the  courtyard,  three  armed 
men  leapt  from  the  darkness  and  «made  an  attack 
upon  him.  It  was  said  that  the  Emperor  was 
saved  only  by  the  promptitude  of  his  faithful 
coachman,  who,  assuring  himself  that  his  master 
was  in  the  carriage  as  yet  unharmed,  lashed 
at  his  horses  and  galloped  them  in  hot  haste 
to  the  Tuileries. 

It  is  impossible  to  overlook  the  fact  that  during 
the  Second  Empire  there  was  abundant  cause  for 
gossip  and  scandal ;  but  much  that  has  been 
written  in  irresponsible  Memoirs  is  either  wholly 
false  or  grossly  exaggerated.  The  Empress 
Eugenie  was  herself  too  strict  and  circumspect  to 
permit  any  looseness  of  talk  or  of  conduct,  and 
scandal  was  rigidly  discouraged  even  if  it  could 
not  be  suppressed. 

At  a  ball  given  at  the  Tuileries  early  in    1865 
156 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

.  t  oi  the  scandal-loving  type  dared  to  bring 
int  r  of  a  certain  ver .        1 1- 

looking   unmarried  girl,  daughter  of  one   ol    tl 
functiona  t  the  Court.     The  narrator  declared 

that  the  girl  w  as  absent  b  he  wa  ipied 

with   her  1  born  onl)    a   very   few   mornings 

previously,  adding  unblushingly  that  the  Emperor 
was  the  father.  One  of  the  Empress's  ladies-in- 
waiting,  the  Marqui  Latour  Maubour  I  iod 
near,  and  heard  this  attempt  to  ruin  an  innocent 
girl's  reputati<  »n. 

"One  ought  to  be  quite  certain  of  one's  farts 
story  like  that,"  she  intervened. 

'  i  >h,  but  it  is  true,"  the  other  retorted  warmly, 
"the  accouchement  look  place  at  the  residence  of 
an  intimate  friend  of  mini 

"You  astonish  me,"  returned  Madame  de 
Latour- Maubourg.  "And  the  more  so  since 
there  i  i  the  young  lady  herself,  dancing!" 

Covered  with  confusion,  the  scandal-monger 
watched  Madame  de  Latour-Maubourg  advance 
towards  the  Empress.  Presently  a  chamberlain 
approached  her  to  inform  her  that  her  carria 
was  waiting,  and  thereafter  her  name  was  missing 
from  the  list  of  those  received  at  the  Tuileries. 

The  gaiety  of  the  Court  of  Napoleon  III  was 
more  than  once  darkened  by  the  shadow  o\ 
tragedy.  The-  murder  of  the  Archbishop  Sibour 
in    the   church   ol    St.   Etienne-du-Mont    is    well 

rem. -inhered.       1   will  refer  to  another  crime  which 

•57 


MY   MEMOIRS 

caused  more  than  a  passing  sensation  in  Paris 
and  which  cast  a  gloom  over  every  one  who  had 
known  the  modest  and  lovable  young  prince  who 
was  its  victim. 

I  have  alluded  to  the  Princess  Bacciochi  as 
one  of  the  older  generation  of  the  Imperial  family. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  the  first  Napoleon's  sister 
Eliza.  She  lived  in  the  Rue  de  la  Ville  L'Eveque. 
Her  only  son,  the  young  Count  de  Camerata,  was 
beloved  by  all  who  had  the  pleasure  of  his 
acquaintance.  He  greatly  distinguished  himself 
at  Court  by  the  tact  and  ability  which  he  displayed 
as  State  Councillor.  This  position  he  attained, 
not  by  mere  favour,  but  through  his  undoubted 
merit,  which  every  one  recognized. 

One  morning  my  valet  de  chambre  came  and 
knocked  at  my  door  saying  that  they  wished  me 
to  go  without  delay  to  the  Rue  de  la  Ville 
L'fiveque.  I  feared  a  misfortune.  Alas!  my 
fears  were  too  well  founded.  The  young  Count 
Camerata  was  dead.  I  was  taken  in  to  see  him. 
Never  shall  I  forget  the  sight  of  his  lifeless  body 
stretched  out  on  his  little  iron  bedstead,  the  eye 
blown  out  of  his  head,  his  fearful  wound  still  open 
and  bleeding.  But  no  ;  I  stop  here.  I  cannot 
write  down  the  horror  of  that  morning. 

What  were  the  facts  of  his  tragic  death  ? 
They  remain  a  mystery.  It  is  known  that  on  the 
night  before,  he  had  a  private  audience  with  the 
Empress ;  but  who  can  say  what  took  place  at 
158 


COURT  OF  THE  SE<  OND  EMPIRE 

that  inten  i  w      »r  what  was  it  1  h 

are  tv  of  the  st( try. 

The  current  rumour  was  that  Camerata   . 

ply  in  debt,  that  he  had  speculated  heavily  on 
;  Exchange,  and  that  neither  the  allow- 
ance that  the  Emp  :ror  m  ide  him  nor  his  moth 

at  the  moment  would  be  sufficient    to 
cover    the    enorm  leficits    that    settling    day 

must  reveal.      It  wa  that  th<  r  boy  had 

a  very  large  sum  :  that  he  had  to  find  200.000 
francs  by  the  next  mornin         He  was  believed  to 
have   had    recourse   so   often    to    the    Emper 
generous  and   frequent   goodness   that   he    dared 
not    in    th         circum  make  an   appeal   to 

him.  What  could  be  done?  At  the  end  of  his 
resources,  half  mad,  he  went,  it  was  said,  to  the 
Empress  at  the  Tuileries  and  threw  himself  at  the 
t  of  her  Majesty,  entreating  her  help.  Nothing 
came  ol  it.      It  was  reported  that  she  received  him 

lly,  refused  him  all  assistance,  threw  in  his 
teeth  the  generosity  oi  the  Emperor,  of  which  he- 
had,  she  said,  so  often  taken  unfair  advantage. 
Then,  in  a  frenzy  of  despair,  he  flung  himself  out 
oi  her  private  boudoir,  leaving  her  as  a  fare- 
well the  words,  "If  1  Ai>  not  find  two  hum1 
thousand  francs  this  evening,  1  shall  blow  my 
brains  out !  " 

Even  supposing  that  these  were  his  words,  do 
you   think  that   the   Sovereign  was  in    the   1- 
affected  by  them  ?     No,   certainly  not.      1  [e  w 


MY  MEMOIRS 

not  a  Spaniard  who  had  spoken.     He  was  only  a 
relation  of  the  Emperor's. 

The  Count  Camerata  received  no  money  that 
night.  He  went  to  bed.  He  awoke  early,  asked 
for  his  coffee,  had  his  hair  dressed,  and  sent  his 
valet  to  fetch  a  newspaper.  During  his  servant's 
absence,  the  thing  happened.     How  ? 

The  Emperor  was  on  the  throne  ;  Camerata 
was  his  cousin  ;  and  nevertheless — thanks  always 
to  her  who  decided  on  his  life — they  buried  him 
like  a  dog.  A  military  van  came  to  take  the 
body  of  the  most  amiable,  the  most  charming  of 
youths,  and  they  carried  it  away  in  this  manner. 
I  do  not  believe  that  they  allowed  even  a 
prayer  ! 

There  is  another  version  of  the  tragedy.  The 
two  stories  are  not  contradictory.  I  am  not 
prepared  to  say  which  represents  the  truth.  No 
one  else  was  present  at  the  interview  in  the 
boudoir  to  say  on  whose  side  the  appeal  was 
made.  I  have  not  access  to  the  records  of  the 
Secret  Service,  and  if  Monseigneur  Bauer  knew 
all  the  details  of  the  case,  it  was  not  to  be  expected 
that  he  would  disclose  the  secrets  of  the  con- 
fessional. "  Three  of  us  knew  this  secret,"  he  is 
known  to  have  declared,  "  and  two  of  us  have 
gone  to  their  graves  without  revealing  it.  I  shall 
do  likewise."  But  the  mystery  of  Camerata's 
death  was  discussed  in  the  boudoir  and  the 
smoking-room  by  people  who  were  usually  well 
1 60 


COURT  OF  THE  SEC  OND   EMPIRE 

informed,  and  the  incidents,  whether  tr 
were  ■  ther  in  dramatic  ord 

It  was  stated  i  t  an 

important  Court  functi  iod  with  the  hand 

ut   a   very  .    his   arm,  Camerata  was 

indiscreet  ■  lv  to  her  in  Italian,  "  /  / 

you,"  in  t<  h  that  the .  w  ere  o\  ird 

•  t  The  indi         '  »n 

— the  insult,  it  was  railed — was  perforce  report! 
to  the  Emperor,  and  forthwith   the  young  prince 
was  marked  by  the        i    t  poli< 

fl<-  was  alleged  to  have  in  his  pi  sion 
certain  letters  addressed  to  him  by  the  great  lady 
who  had  been  the  object  of  his  too-public  declar- 
ation. The)-  weir  not  perhaps  of  a  seriously 
compromising  nature  ;  but  it  was  enough  that  they 
existed.  The  police  endeavoured  to  r 
them.  Led  by  the  zealous  Zembo,  they  rai 
his  apartments  in  the  Rue  de  la  Ville  L'Ev£que. 
Naturally,  Camerata  declined  to  deliver  the 
documents  or  betray  where  they  were  deposited. 
He  was  ready  to  defend  the  lady's  honour  with 
his  life.     Adisputearo  There  was  a  struggle ; 

and  Zembo,  his  hot  Corsican  Mood  being  aroused, 
or  his  zeal  overmastering  his  prudence,  shot 
Camerata  through  the  head. 

Next  morning,  all  Paris  talked  of  the  suicide 
ol  one  "i  the  most  favoured  ol  courtiers.  It  was 
freely    said    that,    not    bein  le    to    meet     his 

liabilities,   he   had   taken   his  own  life.     We  who 

1  101 


MY   MEMOIRS 

knew  him  were  well  aware  that  he  was  not  a 
moral  coward.  Whether  he  was  really  in  debt  at 
that  time  or  not,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  it  is  certain 
that  his  mother  was  wealthy.  At  her  death  the 
fortune  which  she  left  to  the  Prince  Imperial 
yielded  in  interest  alone  something  like  ,£12,000 
a  year. 

The  Princess  Bacciochi  was  having  a  marble 
bust  made  of  her  son,  and  she  requested  me  to  go 
and  see  this  bust  and  give  her  my  opinion  as  to 
the  likeness.  I  went,  then,  one  day  to  the  studio 
of  the  sculptor.  There  was  a  beautiful  young 
person  there  who  inspired  the  chisel  of  the  artist 
in  the  work  that  he  was  engaged  upon  when  I 
entered.  I  learned  that  she  was  Eliza  Letissier, 
an  actress  of  the  Varices  who  was  known 
professionally  as  Mile.  Marthe,  and  who  had  been 
entirely  devoted  to  poor  Camerata.  She  could 
not  be  consoled  for  his  death.  A  few  days  later 
on,  she  was  found  dead  in  her  room.  In  her  hand 
was  a  paper,  not  in  her  own  handwriting,  stating 
that  she  did  not  want  to  live  longer  without  her 
lover.  She  had  chosen  to  follow  him.  And  this 
is  how,  for  lack  of  a  movement  of  goodness,  for 
lack  of  a  little  tender  feeling  and  human  pity,  one 
may  have  to  answer  for  two  lives. 

All  the  theatrical  notabilities  of  Paris  followed 

the  young  artiste  to  her  grave.     The  newspapers 

announced  that  she  had  destroyed  herself  by  means 

of  a  pan  of  charcoal  ;  but  it  transpired  that  the 
162 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

.   i  police  had  visited  her  rooms,  and  that  sh 
had    stubbornly  their    efforts    to  secui 

rtain  documents  entrusted  to  her  protection  by 
her   friend    Count   Camerata.     What    documents 

were  the 

Whether   there    was     any    direct    connection 
between    this  double    tragedy    and   its    sequel,   I 
nnot   say,    but   imm  !y  after  the  death   of 

I  imerata,  Zembo  disappeared  from  Paris.  11 
had,  e  :  aped  a<  i  the  channel,  and  within  a  week 
he  was  found  under  Hungerford  Bridge  with  a 
r  in  his  heart.  His  assassin  was  Griscelli, 
a  member  of  the  secret  service,  who  had  dogged 
him  to  London,  presumably  with  instructions  to 
avenge  the  death  of  Camerata. 

1  have  been  told  that  alter  the  proclamation 
of  the  Republic  on  September  4,  1S70,  Gambetta 
and  Rochefort,  members  ol  the  Government  <>t 
.National  Defence,  were  instructed  to  secure  all 
documents    aban  1     in    the    flight     from    the 

Tuileries,  and  that  during  their  search  they  came 
upon  a  photograph  ol  a  handsome  young  man 
whom  the\'  believed  to  he  Count  Camerata.  On 
the  back  of  it  was  written  in  Spanish  the  words, 
"  One  must  know  how  to  love  in  secret."  Had 
this  any  connection  with  the  circumstances  of  his 
death  ?     I  \m  >nder. 

1  have  mentioned  my  younger  sister,  Prin< 

Anna,  as  bein  it  .it  the  Empress's   Dinner 

ol    the    Twent)     Beauti<  She    was    a    great 

163 


MY   MEMOIRS 

favourite  at  the  Court,  with  her  delicate  features, 
sparkling  eyes  and  golden  hair,  often  adorned 
with  diamond  marguerites,  less  brilliant  than  the 
freshness  of  her  complexion,  and  she  has  always 
been  the  Empress's  one  acknowledged  and  in- 
separable friend.  Whether  the  Court  was  in 
Paris,  at  Compiegne,  at  Fontainebleau  or  Biar- 
ritz, my  sister  was  always  with  the  Empress. 

It  was  early  in  the  reign  that  the  Court  first 
went  to  Biarritz,  residing  at  a  villa  erected  by 
the  Prefect  of  Bayonne  ;  but  in  1854  the  Villa 
Eugenie  was  built  on  the  terraced  slope,  washed 
at  high  tide  by  the  waves,  whose  spray  often 
lashed  the  windows.  The  rooms  were  very  small 
after  the  great  salons  of  the  Tuileries,  and  many 
of  the  ladies-in-waiting  were  dismayed  at  sight 
of  their  limited  quarters,  especially  designed  for 
their  accommodation  by  the  Emperor  himself. 
"  Mais,  mon  Dieu  ! "  exclaimed  Madame  de  la 
Bedoyere,  as  she  was  shown  to  the  room  that  was 
assigned  to  her,  "  this  is  not  as  large  as  a  cell  in 
the  convent  where  we  were  brought  up."  "  No, 
indeed,"  agreed  her  slim  and  sinuous  sister, 
Madame  de  la  Poeze  ;  "we  shall  never  be  able 
to  squeeze  into  such  cabanons  !  " 

My  sister  wrote  to  me  constantly  from  Biarritz, 
and  her  letters  were  sometimes  amusing,  while 
they  gave  a  girl's  impressions  of  her  surroundings. 
Here  is  one  she  wrote  on  the  first  evening  of  her 
arrival  at  the  Villa. 
164 


St*  ///////     /'//  ////     _y 


COURT  OF    I  111-.  SE<  OND   EMPIRE 

My  dear    Bi 

I   am   in  a  dreadful  state,   I 
terribl)  Em   ress  to 

allow    me    to    rid  ima 

:    not    I  me 

to  <1"  an)  thing    imj  nt.  t,  anyhow,  I    will 

I    am  w.      I    tho  ight    ol    you 

I   think   1    may 
aim  v  1  had  timent  of  the  matter.     I 

hop':  that  you  ha  , 
is  i 

VVhy   art  id,   my   darlin  It   is 

n    to    be    so. 
Ev<  :         ly    is    at    \<  ur    fe<  t.    and    this  [uite 

i  (word  This 

htful  the    Princess 

Mathilde,   Nap<  la    I 

Brincard,   Clermont-Tonnern       '  Walkonski, 

incourt,    Walewski,    in  fact  every  who   is 

nice;  one  mis  nly  It   would    be   \ 

kind  ot"  you,   my  de  tr    Bibi,  t  airs 

1  mj  has  just  sent  me 

some  very  hot  in;  .    I   must  drink   it  at  once 

and  th  :.       i  to  bed,   in  order  to  be  able  to 
a  performam  that  th  men 

are   going    to   give   to-night   to   enliven    our   I 
ening.     A  thousand   kisses  to  all. 

Anna. 

I  do  nut  remember  what  "matter"  it  was  con- 
cerning which  my  sister  had  the  "  presentiment." 

Another  letter  1  quote  1  ■<■  <  il   its  rel 

a  SUgJ  i  marr 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Biarritz, 

Sunday. 

My  dear  Bibi, 

We  have  just  come  home  from  the 
inauguration  and  benediction  of  the  promenade 
of  Bayonne  ;  it  was  a  very  fine  ceremony,  and  I 
am  sure  that  the  illustrious  hole  of  a  place  will 
take  note  of  it.  The  Prince  Imperial  arrived 
this  morning.  We  went  to  meet  him  after  Mass  ; 
he  is  very  well.  We  have  got  a  ball  to-night, 
but  I  know  very  few  people,  and  I  think  it  will 
not  be  wildly  hilarious.  (For  your  private  ear.) 
Everybody  in  the  house,  so  Marie  tells  me,  is 
convinced  that  I  am  going  to  marry  the  Prince 
de  la  Moscowa.  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  Per- 
sonally, I  confess  I  should  not  be  astonished  if 
that  were  the  idea  of  the  Empress. 

Her  Majesty  insists  on  my  calling  her  Aunt, 
so  that  I  have  begged  her  to  say  "  tu  "  to  me, 
as  without  that  I  should  never  dare  to  do  so. 
There  will  be  company  here,  so  be  prepared  for  it. 

I  have  just  received  your  letter  and  that  of 
dear  Loulou,  who  tells  me  that  you  are  an  angel. 
I  hope  you  miss  me  very  much.  I  should  be 
heart-broken  if  it  were  otherwise.  I  will  write 
to  Mamma  to-morrow,  if  I  have  time,  for  I  can 
assure  you  we  are  living  at  express  speed,  and 
that  we  do  nothing  but  hurry  from  morning  to 
night.  There  is  hardly  time  even  to  bathe  in  the 
lovely  sea.  Kiss  Mamma  a  thousand  times  for 
me,  and  tell  Aunt  Jane  that  I  will  write  to  her. 
I  kiss  you  as  I  love  you. 

Anna. 

Write  to  me  in  French,  they  don't  open  my 
letters. 
166 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

At  Biarritz  ther         s  more  freedom  and  le 
display    than    at    Compi  or    Fontaii  lu. 

Nevi  rt  :mulation  of  the  ladies  of  the 

<     >urt  was   such   that  they  did    not    tail    to   take  as 

many   summer  toilettes    to    th<  iside    as    they 

I  to  buy  and  find  accommodation  for. 

The  result   was  an   endless  amount  of  luggage. 

That  of  the    Prina  ;s   Metternich  alone   necessi- 

:d  a  whole  van  for  itself.     Th         tentation  in 

dress   and    je  y   and   tl  :neral   rivalry   in 

display    no    doubt  led    heavily  upon    tho 

wl  means  were  limited,  and  an   invitation   to 

a  special  Court  function  came  often  as  a  calamity 

which   could  not  L  1.      One   of   the   lady 

guest  the   first   series    was   heard  to   say,  "I 

have  been  bidden  to  Compiegne,  and  hive   had 

11   a  ilour  mill  to   meet   tlu-  expen  The 

rson    to    whom    this    was    confessed    remarked 

that  Madame  had  no  doubt  spoken  the  truth,  hut 

that  she  had,  neverthi  taken  care  t>>  reserve 

plenty  of  flour  for  her  lace.      Here  is  a  letter  ol 

my   sister's   concerning    som         ;tra  i\\  -   that 

were  sent   to   her    t.>    Biarritz    from    Paris,    with 

which  she  was  net  altogether  satisfied. 

/>':  at 

,  430. 

Dear  Bi   i. 

What  had  taste  I  think  you  have  ;  how 
could  you  think  my  di  \  pretty  .J  They  are 
horrible — as  for  the  .  1  shall  he  obliged 

to  1>.  ive  the  ribbons  changed,  so  ugly  is  the  colour. 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Mr.  B.  came  this  morning  to  speak  to  Tascher 
about  his  proposal.  He  told  me  their  conversa- 
tion ;  it  appears  that  Mr.  B.  behaved  very  well, 
and  said  that  the  Emperor  was  perfectly  right,  and 
that  he  had  made  a  very  serious  mistake,  which 
he  is  paying  for  at  this  moment.  The  Empress 
had  ordered  Tascher  to  tell  him  that  the  year  of 
mourning  for  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  was  not 
ended,  and  the  Emperor  declared  he  would  have 
degraded  him,  if  he  had  not  been  the  son  of  his 
father — it  was  a  little  hard,  but  it  appears  he  took 
it  very  well.  I  thank  you  once  more  a  thousand 
times  for  the  dress  ;  it  is  charming.  Keep  an  eye 
on  the  dresses  that  Mamma  is  going  to  send  me. 
Let  them  be  pretty,  for  if  they  are  in  the  style  of 
those  I  have  just  received,  they  might  as  well  not 
be  sent.  I  beg  you  not  to  tell  Mamma  that  I 
think  them  ugly,  for  it  might  hurt  her  feelings,  as 
she  wrote  to  me  that  she  thought  them  charming. 
The  Empress  is  working  with  her  secretary.  The 
Emperor  is  walking  in  Biarritz.  The  Prince  de 
la  Moscowa  is  suffering  from  an  inflammation  ;  he 
has  gone  to  bed,  so  that  I  was  left  alone  with 
Madame  de  la  Poeze,  which  was  not  very  amusing. 
I  wish  you  were  here,  so  that  I  could  chat  with 
you  a  little.  Madame  de  Metternich  is  waiting 
for  Metternich,  who  is  to  arrive  to-morrow. 
Madame  de  la  Poeze  has  a  little  Spaniard, 
Madame  de  la  Bedoyere  has  the  Prince,  the 
Emperor  Madame  Walewska,  the  Empress  will 
be  paired  off  with  the  Duke  of  Alva,  and  all  go 
for  a  walk  on  the  terrace  arm  in  arm,  and  I,  as  I 
have  got  no  one,  am  obliged  to  content  myself 
with  M.  Mocquard,  or  with  M.  Tascher — who 
are  both,  it  must  be  admitted,  very  amusing,  but 
168 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

really  it  is  rather  sad  to  have  come  down  to  that 
1  will  send  you  my  letters  in  an  en\  li       ed 

I  think  that  is  What  do  you 

think  of  it  ? 

You  don't  tell  me  it"  he  has  arrived,  and  if  you 
ha\  a  him.     The  Empress  affirms  th.it  when 

Mr.  B.  was  told  that  he  was  mad  to  think  of 
marrying  me,  he  answered  :  ••  It  seems  to  me 
that  I  am  worth  at  least  a  Chassiron  <»r  a  Cam- 
bai  They    chaff   me    a    good    deal    here  ; 

they  pretend  that  the  State  Consul  is  in  love  with 
me.  The  Emperor  is  to  leave  shortly  ;  I  am  very 
rry  for  it,  for  he  is  so  nice,  so  amusing,  that  it 
will  be  very  dull  when  he  has  crone — and.  besides, 
he  is  carrying  off  all  the  gentlemen  with  him. 

Good-bye,  dear  Bibi,  I  am  so  hot  that  I 
can't  go  on  writing.  I  kiss  you  a  thousand 
times. 

Anna. 

The  M.  Mocquard  referred  to  by  Anna  was  the 
Emperor's  chef  de  cabinet  and  tor  many  years  the 

ipient  of  his  most  secret  confident         He  w 

a  very  tall,  slim  man  with  a  long  nose,  very  dark 

;,     and    twitching    lips.  on    State 

occasions,   he  invariably  wore  a  grey  frock  coat. 

1  le    kept    a    pair    of    American    trotters   which     I 

vied,  and  was  a  familiar  figure  in  Paris  as  he 
drove  behind  them  on  his  way  between  the 
Tuileries  and  the  various  embassi*  His  official 
salary  amounted  to  about  ,£2,600  a  year,  and  he 
added  to  his  income  by  writing  melodramas.  He 
died  in  I  )ecember  1 864. 

I'Hj 


MY   MEMOIRS 

A  letter  bearing  the  postmark  of  Constan- 
tinople written  to  me  while  she  was  cruising  in 
Eastern  waters  with  the  Empress  on  board 
UAigle  on  their  way  to  Egypt  for  the  opening 
of  the  Suez  Canal  is  quite  characteristic  of 
Princess  Anna. 

Mouth  of  the  Dardanelles, 

September  20,  1869. 

My  Darling, 

I  wrote  to  you  so  hastily  the  other  day 
that  I  very  much  doubt  if  you  were  able  to  under- 
stand a  word  of  my  letter  ;  but  you  must  forgive 
me,  I  had  so  little  time.  Mamma  was  going  to 
write  you  a  long  letter  from  Athens,  so  I  have 
little  to  tell  you.  Our  journey  is  really  delightful  ; 
the  sea  is  a  lake,  impossible  to  be  ill,  even  with 
the  best  intentions  in  the  world. 

You  cannot  imagine  what  a  hideous  country 
Greece  is  ;  I  pity  the  poor  little  King  very  much 
— he  is  charming.  We  have  had  a  surfeit  of 
attentions  for  a  year,  but  Papa  likes  it ;  big  dinner 
at  Court,  expedition  to  the  Panthelicon,  ball  on 
the  French  ship,  the  Magicien,  reception  of  the 
Corps  Diplomatique,  royal  salutes,  "partant  pour 
la  Syrie,"  and  I  don't  know  what  else — and  to 
say  that  we  have  got  to  begin  all  this  again  at 
Constantinople.  We  shall  very  shortly  meet  the 
mail  which  left  Constantinople  yesterday,  and  we 
count  upon  stopping  it  to  give  in  our  letters.  I 
have  already  bothered  you  with  a  commission,  but 
it  will  be  very  kind  of  you  to  see  to  it  a  little ;  but 
I  am  anxious  that  it  should  be  very  pretty — it  is 
a  tiny  little  pocket  pistol  that  I  want ;  by  telling 
Desvaines  that  it  is  like  the  one  that  Cora  gave 
170 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND  EMPIRE 

Achil  will  understand  what   I   want.      1   am 

going  to  see  the  p  r  old  man  ;  I  \.m  not  sure 
that  the  pi  t  pl<  me  ;   I  fear  not,  for  he 

will   wish   to   mi  lize  us  and  show   us  all   his 

It  1      i  to  Smyrna,  I    will   bring  you  a  carpet. 
1   saw         harming  ns,  at  the   h 

<>t   the  Charge*  d'Affaires,  250  frs.      I    kiss  you  a 

thousand   time 

Anna. 

The     Empress     was    anxious    that    my    sifter 
should  mak  1  man  and  the  idea  of  the 

Prince  de  la  Moscowa  being  dismissed,  in  1861 
there  seemed  a  probability  that  the  Comtc  <\r 
I  landres  would  be  the  husband  selected  for  her. 
1.  ter  in  the  same  year,  much  against  her  will,  her 
marriage  with — shall  I  say  Don  Carlos? — was 
urged.  Apropos  of  this  latter  projected  match,  I 
receivi  d  in  October  the  following  letter  from  the 
Empress  :— 

Fontainebkau, 

October   26,    1861. 
.\  1  \         EAR    ( 

1  expect  to  be  back  in  Paris  about  the 
first  days  of  next  month,  so  I  shall  see  you  there. 
As  for  the  project  in  man  of  which  you  write 

to  me,  I  am  much  afraid  that  there  will  be  tOO 
much  insistence  used  to  make  Anna  overcome 
an  antipathy  of  the  strength  of  which  1  have  my- 
self been  able  to  judge.  She  will  lose  nothing  by 
waiting  a  littl  If  nothing  better  vm\  be  found 
tor  her,  1   am  of  opinion  that  she  ought  to  marry 

•7> 


MY   MEMOIRS 

him  ;  but  why  this  haste  ?  I  cannot  forget  that 
Anna  has  begged  me  to  insist  upon  it  that  she 
shall  not  be  worried  about  the  matter.  A  marriage 
against  one's  heart  is  a  very  serious  thing.  So 
you  had  better  all  consider,  and  I  beg  of  you  not 
to  come  to  any  decision.  Who  knows  what  may 
happen  ?  and  by  the  end  of  the  winter  everything 
may  be  decided.  Believe  in  my  affection  for  you 
all.     I  embrace  you. 

Eugenie. 

I  find  that  I  can  receive  and  accommodate 
you,  if  you  will  come  with  Anna.  I  have  two 
rooms  side  by  side.      I  await  you  to-morrow.1 

Greatly  to  my  sister's  satisfaction,  this  project 
of  an  alliance  with  the  Pretender  to  the  throne  of 
Spain  fell  through,  and  in  1865,  with  the  approval 


1  Fontainebleau, 

October  26,   1 86 1. 

Ma  chere  Caroline, — Je  dois  etre  de  retour  a  Paris  vers 
les  premiers  jours  du  mois.  Je  vous  verrai  done  la.  Quant 
au  projet  de  mariage  dont  vous  me  parlez,  je  crains  trop  qu'on 
mette  trop  d'insistence  aupres  d'Anna  pour  lui  faire  dominer  une 
antipathie  dont  j'ai  pu  juger  moi-meme  la  force.  Elle  ne  perd 
rien  a  attendre  un  peu.  Si  on  ne  trouve  pas  mieux,  je  suis 
d'avis  qu'elle  l'dpouse,  mais  pourquoi  cette  hate  ?  Je  ne  puis 
oublier  que  Anna  m'a  prid  d'insister  pour  qu'on  ne  la  tour- 
mente  pas.  Un  mariage  a.  contre-cceur  est  une  chose  bien 
seVieuse.  Rdflechissez  done  tous,  et  je  vous  en  prie  ne  ddcidez 
rien.  Qui  sait  ce  qui  peut  se  presenter  ?  et  a  la  fin  de  l'hiver 
tout  pourra  etre  de'eide'.  Croyez  a  mon  affection  pour  vour 
tous.     Je  vous  embrasse. 

Eugenie. 

J'apprends  que  je  puis  vous  loger,  si  vous  voulez  venir  avec 
Anna.  J'ai  deux  chambres  c6te  a  c6te,  je  vous  attends  demain. 
172 


COURT  OF  THE  SECOND   EMPIRE 

of  their  Majesties,  she  married  Antoinede  Noailles, 
Duke  de  Mouchy  and  Prince-Duke  de  Poix,  one 
of    the   most  brilliant  young  men  of  the   period, 

with  pleasant  features,  very  polite  and  unaffected, 
and  altogether  charming.  Since  the  fall  of  the 
Second  Empire,  the  Duchess  de  .Mouchy  has 
been  the  constant  and  inseparable  companion  of 
the  Empress  in  her  exile  in  England,  first  at 
Chislchurst,    and    now    at    Farnborough. 


173 


CHAPTER   VIII 

THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

Death  of  my  uncle,  Jerome  Bonaparte — "The  sou  between 
two  Napoleons" — The  Duke  de  Morny — M.  de  Persigny 
— Conflicting  influences  of  the  Empress  Eugenie  and 
the  Prince  Napoleon — Ill-health  of  the  Emperor — The 
Duke  of  Gramont's  loyalty  to  him — The  declaration  of 
War — Action  of  the  Empress — The  Prince  Napoleon's 
unpopularity — The  Empress  as  Regent — Metternich  and 
Nigra — Disastrous  progress  of  the  war — The  Regent's 
messages  to  the  front — Treachery  of  Trochu — Sedan — 
Our  flight  from  Paris — Flight  of  the  Empress  Eugdnie 
— "Such  a  nice  man!" — Her  arrival  in  England 

It  was  the  month  of  May  1870.  I  had  been  very 
much  out  of  health  all  the  winter,  and  my  doctors 
urged  my  going  to  the  baths  at  St.  Gervais.  I 
left  Paris  feeling  ill  and  depressed — a  foreshadow- 
ing, no  doubt,  of  all  the  misery  that  was  to  follow. 
My  uncle  Jerome  (of  the  Paterson  branch)  was 
dying  at  Baltimore  of  the  terrible  malady  which 
to-day  occupies  the  minds  of  all  our  great  physi- 
cians. I  was  very  fond  of  my  uncle.  I  had  helped 
nurse  him  through  a  dangerous  illness  in  Paris, 
when  he  would  allow  no  one  else  with  him.  He 
had  a  faithful  old  negro  valet  who  often  came 
174 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

quite  late  at  night  to  implore  me  to  come  to  them 
— when  he  was  restless  and  could  not  sleep. 
Mrs.  Paterson,  his  mother,  was  with  him  at  that 
time  as  well  as  his  son.  They  stayed  at  the 
Westminster   Hotel,    Rue  de  la  Paix. 

Mrs.  Pat(  rson's  quaint  American  sayings  were 
a  source  of  great  amusement  to  nut  during  that 
winter.  She  was  very  hitter  against  King  Jerome, 
which  was  perhaps  only  natural.  They  never 
met,  and  she  always  alluded  to  him  as  "the  sou 
that  had  slipped  in  by  mistake  between  two 
Napoleons."  It  was  so  clever  or  I  should  haw- 
felt  annoyed.  I  was  particularly  devoted  to  my 
great  uncle,  with  whom  I  often  stayed  at  the 
Palais  Royal.  He  was  all  kindness,  and  I  only 
remember  to  have  incurred  his  displeasure  once, 
when  I  was  late  and  kept  an  official  dinner-party 
waiting.  Mrs.  Paterson  was  very  handsome,  even 
when  I  knew  her.  She  was  rather  disturbed 
about  her  nose,  as  she  considered  it  the  special 
feature  of  her  beauty,  and  she  had  met  with  an 
accident  on  board  the  steamer,  missing  a  step,  and 
her  nose  was  all  scraped  and  bruised.  Although 
she  was  immensely  rich,  she  was  very  careful  of 
her  money.  On  leaving  Paris  to  return  to  the 
States,  she  sent  her  largest  hatbox  as  a  present 
to  her  grandson.  When  opened,  it  was  found  to 
contain  loaf  sugar,  with  a  line  from  her  explaining 
that  the  sugar  had  been  collected  from  the  trays 
sent  to   her  room   with    her   tea   and    coffee.      She 

•75 


MY   MEMOIRS 

had  gathered  two  or  three  lumps  each  morning 
and  evening  during  her  stay  at  the  hotel. 

When  she  died  she  left  all  her  money  between 
her  two  grandsons,  favouring,  I  believe,  Charles 
the  younger,  who  never  came  at  any  time  to 
Europe,  and  still  lives  in  the  family  residence  at 
Baltimore.  Jerome,  after  the  war,  lived  principally 
at  Washington,  where  he  built  a  beautiful  house. 
He  died  in  1893  at  a  place  called  Pride's  Crossing, 
leaving  one  son  and  one  daughter. 

My  uncle's  malady,  which  developed  very 
suddenly,  was  a  tumorous  cancer  on  the  side  of 
the  face  and  throat.  Photographs  were  sent  me 
by  his  son  that  consultations  might  be  held  in 
Paris,  but  nothing  was  of  any  avail.  In  this  dis- 
position desprit  I  travelled  to  Geneva,  and  after 
a  few  days  at  the  Hotel  Beaurivage,  celebrated 
now  by  the  murder  of  the  Empress  of  Austria,  I 
posted  on  to  the  baths  of  St.  Gervais. 

On   my   arrival  at  the   hotel    I    found  letters 

telling  me  of  my  uncle's  death.      My  life  was  very 

quiet,  uneventful  and  full  of  rest.      I  had  my  dame 

de  compagnie  and  servants,  otherwise  I  knew  and 

saw  no  one.    I  walked  to  and  from  the  dtablissement 

des  bains  morning  and  evening  through  a  lovely 

mountain    road,   the   hotel    being   some  distance 

from    the    valley.       I    only  made    one    excursion 

during  my  stay,  to  Chamounix.     I  had  never  seen 

the  Mont  Blanc.     I  found  the  hotel  there  crowded 

with  holiday  tourists,  mostly  English.  I  was 
176 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

cross,  tired  with  the  long  drive  of  several  hours, 
and  altogether  disappointed  and  sorry  for  myself. 
I   slept   badly  in  a  strange   and   not  particularly 
comfortable     bed,    and     woke     to    a    morning    of 
drizzling    rain     and    heavy    mist    which    did    not 
improve  my  temp  r.      I  watched  from  my  window 
the  different  parties  starting  forth  for  the  exciting 
climb,    the   women    with    short   skirts,    waterproof 
capes    and    Alpine    sticks.       The    afternoon     w.is 
without   rain,   though    the   mist   was    still    hanging 
over    mountain    and    valley.       I    walked    a    short 
distance  up  the  Mont   Blanc,  just  far  enough  to 
say  I  had  been  to  it,  and  returned  to  the  hotel  to 
find   carriage   and   postilions  waiting   to   take  me 
back  to  St.  Gervais.      Numerous  letters  were  on 
my  table — those  from   Paris  telling-  me  that  I  had 
better  return.     Rumours  of  war  were  afloat.     One 
from  America,  from  my  cousin,  Jerome  Bonaparte. 
A  few  days  after  his  father's  death  he  received 
orders  to  join   his   regiment,    Dragons   de    L'lm- 
p^ratrice,  without  delay.      He  was  sailing  by  the 
next  steamer.      It  was  now  the  end  of  June.      I 
was    undecided,   hesitating   as   to    what    I    should 
do,  lazily  letting  the  days  slip   by,  when  a  funny 
incident  determined  my  departure.     On  my  return 
one   morning   from   my  bath   a  letter  was  handed 
me.      1  knew  no  one   in  the  place,  and  felt  rather 
curious.      The   letter,  which   was  accompanied  by 
a  copy  of  verses,  bore   no   signature,  not   even  an 
initial,    and    to    this   day    I    have    not    the    faintest 
m  •  7  7 


MY  MEMOIRS 

idea  who  my  unknown  correspondent  could  have 
been.  He  said  we  were  on  the  verge  of  war  with 
Prussia.  He  was  ordered  to  rejoin  at  once.  He 
was  in  despair  that  he  should  not  have  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  me  again.  He  had  seen  me  each 
morning  at  the  baths,  where  my  gracious  smile  in 
recognition  of  his  salutation  had  won  his  heart. 
He  wished  to  say  that  if  he  returned  from  the 
war  he  would  make  himself  known,  and  asked 
permission  to  be  presented  to  me.  I  have  often 
wondered  if  he  came  back  to  Paris  after  we  had 
disappeared,  or  if  he  met  his  fate  at  Prussian 
hands.  How  strange  it  all  seems  now,  as  I  look 
back  through  a  long  vista  of  years — look  back  to 
see  myself  as  I  was  then — when  the  sun  seemed 
never  to  set — the  very  air  full  of  caresses,  youth 
and  joy  in  my  train.     Was  it  all  a  dream  ? 

Meanwhile  things  in  Paris  were  ominous.  We 
were  rushing  madly  on  to  a  disastrous  end.  The 
Ollivier  Ministry  was  in  full  swing — Gramont 
was  Foreign  Secretary.  Benedetti,  the  clever, 
astute  and  vindictive  Corsican,  was  Ambassador 
at  Berlin.  Marshal  Le  Bceuf  was  Secretary  of 
War,  Monseigneur  Bauer  confessor  to  all  the 
great  political  society  world  of  Paris.  When 
reading  a  novel,  how  I  dislike  the  author  who 
says,  "  Now  I  must  take  my  reader  back."  Yet 
I,   too,   must  go  back  some  few  years. 

After  the  withdrawal  of  our  troops,  and  the 
disastrous  termination  of  the  Mexican  campaign, 
178 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

someone  said  somewhei  now  remains 

no  further  folly  to  !  nmitte  But  there  still 

remained  the  fatal  war  of  1S70.  Who  could 
have  foreseen   it? 

There  is  little  doubt  that  the  death  blow  to 
our  prosperity  was  the  passing  away  of  the  Duke 
de  Morny  in  [865.  He  was  the  heart  and  soul 
of  the  Empire,  lie  alone  held  firm  against  the 
all-invading  influence  of  the  Empress  ;  an  influ- 
ence always  so  sinister  for  France.  His  loss  was 
irreparable.  He  died  under  the  treatment  of  the 
English  physician,  his  doctor  and  his  friend,  and, 
I  believe,  medical  man  to  the-  English  Embassy, 
who  administered  very  freely  blue  pill  to  an 
already   weakened   constitution. 

In  the  early  years  of  the  Empire,  the  Duke 
de  Morny  was,  without  doubt,  the  king  of  fashion, 
of  eleg.mce,  of  refinement.  lie  looked  a  grand 
seigneur,  his  manners  savoured  of  the  old  regime. 
He  was  a  perfect  courtier,  sparkling  with  the  esprit 
which  is  said  in  France  to  run  the  streets.  He 
acquired  great  influence  with  the  Prince-President, 
with  whom,  by  his  position,  he  was  a  great 
favourite.  He  was  also  what  people  call  lucky  in 
all  he  undertook.  Had  it  not  been  for  his  clever 
conception  and  manoeuvring,  I  doubt  it  the  Coup 
d ' Etat  would  ever  have  taken  place.  Persigny 
was  great  only  in  his  absolute  devotion.  Though 
he  contributed  largely  to  the  first  building  ot  the 
Imperial   fortunes,  a  stronger  and  wiser  statesman 

m  2  179 


MY  MEMOIRS 

was  needed  to  complete  the  edifice.  Persigny 
had  a  casual  way  of  doing  things,  and  an  inco- 
herence in  his  ideas  which  astonished  and  did  not 
always  please.  Morny,  on  the  contrary,  was 
thorough  in  all  he  did,  and  it  was  he  who,  as 
Home  Secretary,  prepared  and  carried  through 
the  Coup  d'litat  of  December  2,   1851. 

The  Duke  de  Mornv  was  a  natural  son  of 
Queen  Hortense,  and  therefore  half-brother  of 
Napoleon  III.  His  father  was  General  Count 
de  Flauhault  de  laBillarderie,  King  Jerome's  aide- 
de-camp  at  Austerlitz.  Born  in  Paris,  October  23, 
181 1,  and  brought  up  by  the  Countess  de  Souza, 
De  Morny  was  a  perfect  homme  de  salon,  a.  de- 
lightful causeur.  In  politics  he  was  clever,  calmly 
resolute,  inflexible,  but  with  a  certain  charm  of 
manner,  a  rare  delicacy  and  finesse,  which  served 
to  gain  his  ends.  He  was  the  Emperor's  most 
intimate  adviser,  and  his  friendship  with  the 
Empress  guided  her  influence  from  the  wrong 
direction  as  long  as  he  lived.  Monsieur  de 
Morny  withdrew  from  office  on  the  rendering  of 
the  decree  which  confiscated  all  the  property  of 
the  Orleans  family — a  decree  to  which  he  was  abso- 
lutely opposed,  and  which  was  carried  through 
the  influence  of  M.  de  Persigny,  who  succeeded 
him  as  Home  Secretary.  The  Duke  de  Morny 
married,  in  January  1857,  the  daughter  of  the 
Princess    Troubetskoi,1    whose    acquaintance    he 

1  And  daughter  of  the  Emperor  of  Russia — dit  on.  It  was 
therefore  almost  a  family  alliance,  and  certainly  a  natural  one. 
180 


I   !       Dl'l       I  >l 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

made  when  sent  to  Rus  rdinair 

to  r  nt  the  Emperor. 

She  was  young  and  ver)         inating,  with  the 
most    lovely  <  den    hair,  and    the   darkest 

blue-black    ey<  l  '.;    the   evening  of   Morny's 

death    she     thought    him    looking    more    ill   and 
suffering,  and  pleaded  with  him  to  be  allowed  to 
stay   near   him.      But    it  was   the  date   which   had 
long  been   chosen   for  a   fancy  dress  ball  at  the 
Tuileries,  and  the  Duke  insisted  on  her  attending. 
She  returned  as  early  after  the  Imperial  supper  as 
sible,  but  too  late  to  see  the  Duke  alive. 
Her  sorrow  and    remorse   that   she  had    been  at 
the  ball  when  he  died  was  so  great  that  she  had 
the  tresses  of  golden  hair  he  so  loved,  cut  off  quite 
close  to  her  head,   and    herself  laid    them   in   his 
coffin,    and   every  day  a  cover  was  laid  for  him  at 
the  table  as   if  he  were   still  alive.      She  was  ill 
for  some   time.     When  she  was    convalescent    I 
went  to  see  her.      She  looked  so  altered  with  her 
shortened     hair,    so    delicate    and    white    in     her 
crapes,  seated  in  a  large  arm-chair  with  a  small 
table  and  tray  before   her.      She  excused  herself 
for    receiving    me    while     taking    her     broth.      I 
stayed    only   a    few    moments  ;  she  soon  seemed 
weary  and   unable  to  talk.      She  was  grieved  and 
distn  it  things  which  took  place  immediately 

after    M.    de    Morny's   death,    when    breath    v. 
scarcely   gone    from  him.      What    these    things 
were  1   am  afraid   I   cannot  venture  to  disclose  in 
detail.     All  I  can  say  is,  that  if  political  questions 

1S1 


MY   MEMOIRS 

were  at  stake  and  involved  the  necessity  of  such 
measures,  they  should  have  been  dealt  with  by 
the  Emperor's  orders  and  not  by  a  woman's  hand. 
But  it  was  by  order  of  the  Empress  that  all  the 
papers  of  the  Duke  de  Morny  were  seized.  The 
most  private  papers,  the  most  secret  documents 
were  taken.  Nothing  was  respected.  Vainly 
Madame  de  Morny  revolted  against  the  outrage. 
The  order  was  formal  (official).  She  had  to 
resign  herself  and  to  await  the  hour  for  taking 
her  revenge.  That  hour  struck  at  last,  as  it 
always  strikes  for  those  who  know  how  to  wait. 
Three  years  later,  in  the  spring  of  1868,  Madame 
de  Morny  married  the  Duke  de  Sesto,  the  same 
Duke  de  Sesto  who  was  the  unique  love  of  the 
Empress  Eugenie's  life.  The  history  of  the 
Duke  de  Sesto,  if  told,  must  be  a  record  in  other 
pages  than  these  ;  but  if  revenge  is  sweet,  Madame 
de  Morny  certainly  had  hers. 

De  Morny  was  above  all  things  reasonable. 
But  his  successor  as  Home  Secretary,  M.  de 
Persigny,  was  a  fanatic — madly  devoted  to  the 
Emperor  and  his  cause,  but  impetuous,  rash, 
over  zealous,  excitable  to  frenzy,  so  carried  away 
by  his  feelings  that  his  blunders  were  numerous. 
Later  on  he  was  sent  as  Ambassador  to  England. 
Had  the  Duke  de  Morny  lived,  would  the  war 
of  1870  ever  have  taken  place?  I  think  not. 
The  Ollivier  Ministry  would  never  have  been.     It 

was  the  first  step  on  our  downward  way.  Morny 
182 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

gone;  two  antagonistic  powers:  the  Empress  at 

the  Tuileries,  the  Prince  Napoleon  at  the  Palais 
Royal,  fought  to  influence  the  Emperor.  Poor 
Emperor — the  best,  the  kindest,  but  weakened 
in  b<»dy,  enduring  constant  suffering  with  heroic 
calm.  Whose  intluence  would  prevail  was  the 
point  at  issue?  The  question  which  would  decide 
the  fate  of  the  Empire,  the  fate  of  France 

The  Emperor  and  Empress  were  at  St.  Cloud, 
having  this  year  decided  to  give  up  the  usual 
visit  to  Fontainebleau.  The  Emperor,  whose 
foresight  and  judgment  did  not  mislead  him, 
alone  of  all  his  Court  felt  that  indefinable 
liaise  cCesprit  shadowing  some  coming  evil. 
He  was  suffering,  tired,  weary,  despondent.  The 
public  were  kept  in  careful  ignorance  of  the  state 
of  his  health.  Life  went  on  at  St.  Cloud  inn  h 
as  usual.  The  Empress  had  with  her  two  nieces, 
the  daughters  of  her  sister,  the  Duchess  d'Albe. 
The  gilded  youth  that  surrounded  her  as  guests, 
and  the  staff  of  those  in  waiting  on  their  Majesties, 
carried  on  their  games  and  round  of  amusements, 
seemingly  totally  unaware  of  the  serious  and 
agitating  rumours,  the  disquieting  whispers  which 
filled  the  air,  the  coming  events  that  were  casting 
their  shadows  in  advance.  Suddenly,  like  a  cry  of 
fire  in  the  night,  the  declaration  of  war  fell  upon  us. 

I  arrived  in  Paris  on  the  8th  of  July  :  on  the 
i  5th  war  was  declared. 

The    Empress    was    one   of    its    most    fervent 


MY   MEMOIRS 

adherents.  The  Emperor,  some  say  the  Duke 
de  Gramont  himself,  deplored  the  idea  of  war. 
Remember,  the  Emperor  was  now  no  longer  the 
powerful  monarch  that  he  had  been.  His  wings 
were  clipped.  All  that  a  constitutional  sovereign 
could  do,  he  did,  but  his  endeavours  to  renew 
friendly  relations  with  Prussia  failed.  It  was 
said  that  the  Duke  de  Gramont,  differing  from 
some  of  the  Cabinet  Ministers,  offered  to  resign, 
and  only  continued  in  office  at  the  request,  I  may 
say  the  entreaty,  of  the  Emperor.  Seeing  his 
sovereign  suffering,  and  trembling  at  the  thought 
of  a  Ministerial  crisis  at  such  a  time,  M.  de 
Gramont  was  overwhelmed  by  an  immense  pity. 
The  Emperor  !  Yesterday  so  great,  so  powerful ! 
to-day  so  humble  and  imploring ! 

A  Cabinet  Council  was  held  at  St.  Cloud 
almost  immediately.  This  was  on  the  evening 
of  July  14.  Napoleon  expressed  his  scruples 
and  difficulties.  He  repeatedly  asked  his  minis- 
ters what  guarantees  they  could  offer  him.  Of 
course,  it  was  a  guarantee  of  success  that  he  re- 
quired. He  did  not  believe  in  the  prospect,  and 
it  was  only  a  spurious  comfort  that  he  got  from 
Le  Bceuf,  the  War  Minister,  who  asserted  that 
the  army  was  perfectly  supplied  in  every  respect, 
and  that  it  would  not  require  the  purchase  of  a 
single  gaiter-button  for  a  year  to  come.  The 
war    party  was    certainly   in   the    ascendant   that 

night.  They  discussed  the  situation,  they  planned, 
184 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

they  persuaded;  and  finally  a  d  with  declara- 

tion  of    war  ted    for    his    Majest) 

signature.  After  some  further  discussion,  the 
1  mperor,   so   calm,    so  mtrolled,    for   mice 

carried  away  by  his  feelings,  rose  from  his  seat 
in   strong  emotion   and,   tearing  the  d  with 

violence,  he  scattered  the  pie(  bout  the  floor, 
left  the  council-chamber,  and,  gaining  his  room, 
threw  himself  on  a  couch  to  try  to  sleep.  All 
was  now  confusion  in  the  palace.  The  cause  of 
the  disturbance  soon  reached  the  Empress,  who 
of  late,  for  some  political  reason,  was  not  present 
at  the  State  o  luncils. 

The  ministers,  in  consternation  at  so  unpre- 
cedented an  occurrence,  were  still  debating,  un- 
certain what  to  do,  when  the  door  opened  and 
the  Empress  appeared.  In  an  instant  they 
understood  that  with  her  aid  the  day  could 
still  be  won.  The  Duke  de  Gramont  bowed 
his  head.  He  knew  the  day  was  lost  !  At  the 
suggestion  of  her  Majesty  a  second  document 
was  hastily  prepared,  similar  to  the  one  that  lay 
torn  in  bits  on  the  floor.  The  ministers  now 
implored  her  Majesty  to  "save  the  honour  of 
the  Empire" — to  obtain  the  signature!  Little 
wonder  that,  thus  solicited,  thus  entreated,  she 
felt  inspired.  Taking  the  paper,  she  sought  the 
Emperor.  Still  on  his  couch,  half-asleep,  half- 
dazed,  he  took  the  paper  and  signed  as  in  a 
dream.      The  die   was  cast. 

185 


MY  MEMOIRS 

I  have  said  the  Ministry  was  very  divided. 
Emile  Ollivier  himself  was  opposed  to  war. 
Why  was  the  Empress  so  determined  to  allow  of 
no  concessions  ?  Some  said  her  Spanish  blood, 
her  devotion  to  her  country,  could  not  brook  the 
thought  of  a  German  Prince  on  the  throne  of 
Spain. 

Prince  Hohenzollern  and  his  candidature  was 
the  ostensible  reason  given  for  war.  Was  it  the 
true  reason  ?  I  much  doubt  it.  I  have  always 
thought  that  personal  feeling,  the  attitude  and 
hostile  words  of  our  Ambassador  at  Berlin,  were 
responsible  for  the  opportunity  given  to  our  foe 
Bismarck.  The  smouldering  fire,  so  long  re- 
pressed, at  last  burst  forth.  All  those,  and  I 
was  myself  among  the  number,  who  had  been 
with  the  King  of  Prussia  during  his  visit  to 
Compiegne,  when  Bismarck  accompanied  him, 
could  not  fail  to  see  the  hidden  enemy  behind 
the  courteous  manner.  At  home,  the  partisans 
of  the  Empress  fanned  the  flame.  I  have  been 
told  that  at  St.  Cloud,  a  certain  general,  in  a 
moment  of  rage,  swore  to  break  his  sword  and 
fling  the  pieces  at  the  Emperor's  feet,  if  the 
honour  of  France  was  not  avenged. 

At   Tromsoe,  en  route  for  the    North   Cape 

and  Spitzbergen,  the   Prince   Napoleon  received, 

on    the    1 2th    of   July,   the    news    that    war    was 

imminent.      He  was  in  despair.     Why,  oh  why, 

had  he  left  Paris  ?     To  escape  futile  agitations, 
1 86 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

useless     political      inti  ;,     he     had     left     the 

Emperor-  th<  nd   and  companion  of 

his  boyl  1  and  of  all  his  lift  He  ordered  a 
gun  to  be  fired,  recalling  his  suite  and  officers 
dis  1   for  a  holiday  in   din-  rent  parts  of  the 

island.  A  ad  now  his  yacht  is  under  way.  See- 
ing the  Prince  walking  the  deck,  sombre  and 
agitated,  one  of  his  part)-  ventured  to  ask, 
"Where  are  we  going,  Monseigneur  ? '  The 
answer  came  brusque  and  short  :  "  To  Charenton  " 
(  B   dlam)  "  as  fast  as  we  can." 

In  years  to  come,  when  the  history  of  the 
Second  Empire  is  written  and  read,  the  Prince 
Napoleon  will,  1  know,  he  falsely  represented 
and  wrongly  judged.  He  was  not  a  popular 
man.  Too  cold,  too  indifferent,  too  haughty  to 
please  the  multitude';  too  independent,  too  out- 
spoken, too  crushing-,  to  be  liked  in  society  :  too 
intellectual,  too  honest,  too  far-seeing,  to  be 
appreciated  at  Court.  He  hated  flattery;  he  had 
few  friends,  but  the}'  were  sincere;  fewer  still 
re  his  admirers,  but  in  my  modest  opinion  he 
had  mure  cleverness  in  his  little  finger  than  was 
t>>  be  found  in  all  our  statesmen  put  together. 
Through  all  his  political  career  Prince  Napoleon 
felt  the  hostility  of  the  French  nation.  They 
never  forgave  or  forgot  his  hast)-  retreat  from 
the  Crimean  War.  It  is  well  known  that  cholera 
broke  out  in  the  ranks;  some  said  owing  to 
St.    Arnaud's  occupying   with    his    troops  a  tract 

187 


MY   MEMOIRS 

of  country  against  which  he  had  been  warned  as 
unhealthy.  The  Prince  Napoleon,  though  not 
actually  attacked  with  cholera,  felt  the  effects  of 
the  insalubrity  of  the  camp.  He  was  so  weakened 
and  ill  that  for  days  he  could  not  remain  on 
horseback.  In  this  condition  he  handed  over 
the  command  of  his  corps  d1  amide  and  left  for 
France. 

It  is  true  that  he  was  morally  hooted  by 
society  and  by  the  nation  at  large.  This  one 
act  of  his  life  cost  him  the  confidence  of  the 
people,  and  gave  the  semblance  of  a  pretext  to 
the  Empress  and  the  Imperialist  party,  who, 
after  the  death  of  the  Prince  Imperial,  proclaimed 
his  son,  Prince  Victor  Napoleon,  successor  to  the 
Imperial  throne.  It  was  said  that  the  will  of  the 
Prince  Imperial  designated  his  cousin  Prince 
Victor  as  his  successor,  and  that  therefore  the 
Empress  had  no  choice  or  voice  in  the  matter.  I 
am  relating  facts  and  leaving  my  readers  to  draw 
their  own  conclusions,  as  I  wish  to  be  as  lenient 
and  throw  as  little  blame  as  possible  on  those  who 
have  suffered  so  cruelly  for  their  mistakes. 

Prince  Victor  was  now  pretender  to  the  throne 

as  well  as  his  father.     The  party  was   divided  : 

Prince  Victor  and  his  father  were  political  foes. 

He  left  his  father's  house  and  established  himself 

at  Brussels,  the  Empress  and  the  Imperial  party 

providing    the    funds.      In    1891,    when    Prince 

Napoleon  died  at  Rome,  he  refused  on  his  death- 
188 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

bed  to  receive  his  son.  He  had  also  taken 
measures — although  the  French  law  dues  not 
allow  a  parent  to  disinherit  a  child — to  dispose 
of  his  entire  fortune  in  favour  of  his  younger  son 
and  daughter.  Prin<  1.  lis,  now  General  Bona- 
parte  in  the  Russian  Army,  inherited  Prangins 
and  all  personalty.  The  daughter,  Princess 
tizia,  married  her  uncle,  the  Duke  D'Aosta, 
who  for  a  time  occupied  so  unfortunately  the 
conl  I    throne    of  Spain.      On    his    return    to 

Italy,  and  after  the  death  of  his  wife,  Princess 
I  ia  and  her  mother's  brother  were  much 
thrown  together.  They  became  greatly  attached, 
and,  obtaining  the  assent  of  the  Pope,  they  were 
married  ;  but  their  married  life  was  a  short  one. 
The  Duke's  health  after  his  Spanish  "fugue" 
was  in  a  bad  state.  He  died,  leaving  one  son 
by   his  second   marriage. 

At  the  time  when  the  controversy  arose  as  to 
the  right  of  succession,  it  was  rumoured  that 
Charles  Bonaparte,  as  well  as  his  brother  Colonel 
Bonaparte,  had  written  renouncing  all  claims  or 
pretensions  to  the  throne  of  France.  I  wondered 
if  this  could  be  true,  although  it  seemed  to  come 
from  well-authenticated  authority. 

Remembering  the  famous  lawsuit  of  1861,  in 
which  Maitre  Berryer,  tin:  legitimist  organ  and 
orator,  and  Maitre  Allou  fought  for  their  respec- 
tive clients — the  former  for  Prince  Jerome  of  the 
Paterson  branch,  the  latter  for   Prince   Napoleon 


MY   MEMOIRS 

— lawsuit  gained  by  Prince  Napoleon,  inasmuch 
as  the  American  Bonapartes  were  enjoined  to  add 
"  Paterson  "   to   their    name — I    could    not   quite 
understand    that   any    renouncement    was    called 
for,   unless  their  name  was   allowed    to    be   put 
forward  as  that  of  a  possible    President  of  the 
Republic.      During  the  Crimean  War  the  Prince 
Napoleon  took  objection  to  his  nephew  being  in 
the  Army,  and  before  the  enemy,  as  "Bonaparte." 
It  was  almost  on  the  battle-field  that  the  Prince 
made  his   requisition   to   the   Minister  of  War — 
Marshal  Skinner — then  commanding  the  troops. 
The  question  was  without  delay  submitted  to  the 
Emperor  at  the  Tuileries,  proposing  that  the  name 
should  be  changed   "  d'autoritk"  by  an  Imperial 
decree.      This   might   possibly    have    been    done 
had   not  Jerome,   on   hearing  a    rumour,    sent    a 
telegraphic  message  pointing  out  that  they  would 
force  him  to  resign  on  the  eve  of  a  battle.     The 
matter  was  therefore   discussed   in  Council,   and 
the  Empress — not  from  any  love  of  Jerome,  but 
from  her  everlasting  antagonism  to  Prince  Napo- 
leon— violently  opposed  the  measure,  which  was 
abandoned.      It  has  always  been  a  question  in  my 
own  mind  whether  this   circumstance,  as  well  as 
the  illness,  had  not  a  great  deal  to  do  with  the 
precipitate  return  of  Prince  Napoleon  from   the 
war. 

After  the   fall   of   Sebastopol,   the   Te  Deum 

at  Notre  Dame,  and  the  triumphal  entry  of  the 
190 


THE    FRANCO  PRUSSIAN    WAR 

troops  into  Paris,  the  Emperor  sent  for  Je*rdme 
and  offered  him  the  title  of  Prince  de  Montfort,  or 
Duke  de  Sartdne,  at  his  choice,  with  an  apana 
of  /"4,00c  a  year.  King  ferome,  his  grandfather, 
had  borne  the  title  of  Comte  deMontfort  in  exile, 
a  title  he  took  after  the  Battle  ol  Waterloo,  on 
iring  to  the  Court  of  Wiirtemberg.  [drome 
refused  both  title  and  apai  ,  saying  he  was 
born  and  baptized  [erome  Napoleon  Bonaparte, 
and  that  (erdme  Napoleon  Bonaparte  he  would 
remain  till  his  dying  day.  And  so  h  lid  ;  for 
notwithstanding  the  lawsuit  of  which  I  have 
spoken,  he  never  took  the  name  of  "  Paterson  ' 
in  addition  to  his  own  ;  but,  of  course,  in  all  official 
documents  it  was  bracketed  with  "  Bonaparte." 

King  Jerome  died  in  i860  at  his  country  seat 
Vilgenis.  The  funeral,  as  will  In-  remembered, 
took  place  from  the  Palais  Royal.  The  cortege, 
with  Prince  Napoleon  as  chief  mourner,  walking 
with  a  long  black  cloak  thrown  over  his  shoulders, 
proceeded  to  the  Invalides,  where  the  burial 
service  was  performed,  llis  grandson  was  not 
allowed  to  take  his  place  in  the  procession  behind 
Prince  Napoleon,  lie  was  ordered  to  the  family 
tribune,  where  all  the   princi  of  the    Imperial 

family  had  their  reserved  seats,  and  there  to  he 
in  waiting  tor  the  arrival  of  the  funeral  car. 
Jerome  was  the  only  in. m  among  us,  every  prince 
being  in  the  procession.  1  felt  dreadfully  sorry 
lor    him.      I    confess    I    admired    his    courage    in 

191 


MY   MEMOIRS 

obeying  the  order,  all  the  more  that  I  knew,  had 
I  been  in  his  place,  wild  horses  would  not  have 
dragged  me  there.  Of  course,  I  reasoned  as  a 
woman  ;  a  soldier  knows  only  the  word  of 
command. 

I  had  left  Paris  for  a  few  days  in  order  to  see 
to  things  at  a  small  place  I  had  in  the  country,  not 
far  from  Triport,  on  the  ligne  de  l'Est  route  de 
Strasbourg,  where,  a  few  months  later,  the  Prussians 
were  destined  to  hold  their  sway.  I  found  all  the 
stations  crowded  with  soldiers,  the  passing  trains 
full  of  troops,  all  shouting  "  A  Berlin !  Vive  la 
France  !  Vive  l'Empereur  ! "  as  they  rushed  past 
us.  I  held  in  my  hand  the  Emperor's  farewell 
proclamation,  so  full  of  sadness  ;  such  an  under- 
current of  misgiving,  of  despondency  ran  through 
it.  No  one  could  read  it  and  doubt  the  presenti- 
ments of  ill  that  filled  his  heart. 

Our  Paris  residence  was  2  Avenue  Montaigne. 

The  garden  overlooked  the  Cours  la  Reine  and 

the    Seine,    forming    the    extreme    point    of  the 

Avenue  and    the  Rue  Jean-Goujon.     When  war 

broke  out  I  was  alone  here  with  my   father  and 

mother.     My  eldest  brother,  Joachim,  married  to 

Princess    Wagram,    was    at    Grosbois,   my    sister 

Anna  at   Mouchy  ;    my   second  brother,   Achille, 

married  to  Princess  Dadiani  of  Mingrelia,  with  his 

regiment,    Chasseurs    d'Afrique,    at   Algiers ;  my 

youngest  brother  Louis,  only  eighteen,  a  sailor  at 

the  Mauritius  ;  my  cousin,  Jerome   Bonaparte,  in 
192 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

charge  of  the  depdt  of  the   Dragons  de  l'lmpeYa- 
trice,   quartered   at    the  Champ  de   Mars—] 
Militaire. 

The  Emperor,  the  Prince  Imperial,  the  Prince 
N  n.  and    Joachim,    had    now   left    Paris   for 

the  seat  of  war.  Achille,  leaving  his  wife  and 
child    at  joined    Marshal     MacMahon's 

staff.  Louis,  recalled,  reached  France  only  to 
come  on  to  England.  He  left  an  Empire — he 
found  a  confused  chaos.  My  own  days  passed,  I 
scarcely  know  how,  in  feverish  excitement  and 
tation  of  news  from  the  Tuileries — from  the 
Champ  de  Mars — listening  for  the  gallop  of  a 
horse,  watching  for  the  first  sight  of  an  orderly  in 
the  distance,  bearer  of  dispatches. 

The  Empress  was  now  alone  at  the  Tuileries — 
Regent,  all  powerful.  In  one  thing  only  she  had 
been  disappointed.  All  her  charm,  all  her  influence 
had  failed.  Through  Metternich  and  Nigra,  the 
respective  ambassadors,  she  had  hoped  to  induce 
Austria  and  Italy  to  join  arms  with  France. 
Devoted  as  were  her  two  admirers,  the)-  dared 
not  compromise   their  countries,  their  sovereigns. 

Metternich  reminded  her  ol  Sadowa.  He  also 
told  her  of  his  conviction  that  even  the  united 
for  f    France   and    Austria    against   Germany 

would  have  no  chance  of  success  ;  he  strongly 
deprecated  war.  Nigra,  on  his  part,  affirmed  that 
the  interests  of  Italy  precluded  any  alliance  with 
Prance  .it  that  moment,  notwithstanding  the  great 

JV3 


MY  MEMOIRS 

personal  friendship  existing  between  Victor 
Emmanuel  and  the  Emperor  Napoleon. 

If  we  could  have  penetrated  his  inmost 
thoughts,  we  might  have  read,  "  On  France's 
war  with  Prussia  depends  the  unity  of  Italy. 
Her  troops  withdrawn — Rome  is  ours!" 

Prince  Metternich,  Austrian  Ambassador,  I 
knew  well  in  my  younger  days,  when  he  was 
Secretary  of  Legation,  and  I  just  out  of  my  teens. 
He  was  handsome,  a  charming  companion,  a 
delightful  danseur,  but,  as  I  have  said,  his  great 
and  successful  career  was  due  almost  solely  to 
the  brains  of  his  clever  wife. 

As  for  Nigra,  how  well  I  remember  him ! 
Tall,  slight,  fair,  curly  hair  and  a  blonde  mous- 
tache, with  the  face  of  a  ferret,  and  the  look 
of  a  Machiavel  ;  an  adorer  of  the  Empress,  or 
apparently  so  ;  always  welcome,  with  petites  et 
grandes  entries  to  the  palace  :  an  ardent  courtier, 
a  dangerous  friend. 

Our  troops  were  at  the  front. 

On  the  summit  of  a  mountain  interspersed 
with  deep  ravines  and  wooded  slopes,  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  Saar,  commanding  a  view  of  the  valley, 
in  the  distance  on  the  other  side  of  the  river,  sur- 
rounded by  gardens,  Saarbriick  rose  before  them. 

A  radiant  sun  inundates  mountain  and  valley. 
Eleven  o'clock — two  hours  since  the  fighting 
began.  Suddenly  the  great,  thundering  voice  of 
the  big  guns  rends  the  air.  Almost  at  the  same 
194 


THE    FRANCO  PRUSSIAN    WAR 

moment   the   Emperor  appears,  accompanied  by 
the  Prince  Imperial  and  one  or  two  officer        He 

LI  .\  Min,  with  hollow  cheeks  and  deep  blue 
circles  round  his  eyes,  his  whole  aspect  <>n<-  ol 
suffering  and  fatigue.  !!<•  follows  tin-  movements 
of  the  troops  through  his  field-glasses  .  .  .  not 
a  word  is  spoken  between  father  and  sun.  .  .  . 
At  last  the  Prussians  are  beating  a  retreat  !  The 
Prince  ran  no  longer  contain  his  enthusiasm. 
Turning  to  the  Emperor,  he  cries— "See,  they 
fly— we  are  victorious!"  Alas!  how  dearly  we 
were  destined  to  pay  for  this  first  victory  ;  this 
little  battle  of  Saarbriick,  made  so  much  of 
in  our  insane  determination   to  blind  ourselves  ! 

On  the  6th  ofAugust  the  disasterof  Reichsoffen 
t-11  upon  us.  With  the  news  of  the  battle  lost 
came  a  private  dispatch.  Marshal  MacMahon 
was  sending  my  brother  back  to  Paris.  lie  had 
carried  the  Marshal's  order  to  charge,  to  the 
regiment  of  cuirassiers,  lie  stood  by  and  saw 
them  mown  down  like  grass  with  a  scythe.  Fatal 
charge — scarcely  a  man  or  officer  or  horse  left 
standing.  For  days  and  nights,  the  vision  still 
before  him,  I  nursed  him  through  fever  and 
raving.  His  wile  did  not  arrive  from  Algiers 
till  he  wa  i  ci  mvale  icent. 

Following  Reichsoffen,  Gravelotte,  one  of  the 
most  deadly  battles,  was  fought  iH\  August  16. 
My  eldest  brother,  a  general  in  Bazaine's  army 
corps  at  Metz,  advised  the   immediate  return  of 

i9S 


MY   MEMOIRS 

the  Emperor  to  Paris  ;  his  retreat  from  the  Camp 
de  Chalons  at  that  moment  could  have  been  so 
easily  effected.  The  Emperor,  since  our  first 
reverses,  had  been  anxious  to  return  to  Paris. 
Prince  Napoleon  urged  it.  He  implored  the 
Emperor  not  to  hesitate.  The  Emperor  once 
more  at  the  Tuileries,  the  country,  the  Empire, 
might  yet  be  saved !  Marshal  MacMahon 
arrived  at  the  camp  with  the  remnants  of  his 
half-slaughtered  regiments.  Seeing  them,  the 
Emperor  decided  to  regain  Paris  and  give  his 
generals  time  to  recruit. 

Alas !  From  Paris,  the  Regent  and  the 
Cabinet  violently  opposed  the  idea.  The  Em- 
press sent  dispatches  assuring  the  Emperor  that 
the  feeling  in  the  capital  was  so  strong  against 
him  that  he  would  not  reach  the  Tuileries  alive. 
In  vain  her  true  friends,  in  vain  my  father,  in 
vain  Jerome,  implored  her  to  repent — to  believe — 
to  trust  them  ;  Jerome  sought  a  private  interview 
and  entreated  her  to  allow  him  to  go  with  her 
despatches  and  escort  the  Emperor  back  to  the 
Tuileries.  He  swore  to  her  that  there  was  no 
danger:  he  swore  to  answer  for  his  Majesty's 
safety  with  his  own  life.  The  Emperor  would  be 
acclaimed,  he  told  the  Empress  ;  she  was  being 
deceived  by  those  whose  interest  it  was  to  keep 
the  Emperor  away.  Fatal  illusion  !  Nothing — 
nothing    could    persuade    her.       After    sending 

letters,  messages,  during  twenty-four  hours,  she 
196 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

insisted   on  sending   M.  Rouher   himself  to  point 
out  how  impossible  it  was  to  think  of  a  retreat. 
■    \  i  n  mj  I    idvance  to  the    I  in  alone 

the  she  declared. 

;ht    hours    air  t.      A    decision 

was    imp  rative.      1  ■  ■■ »    much    time    had    already 
t    in    wa  iving    the    Prussians 

the     advant  of    rapid    marches.      Alas     for 

France!  The  Emperor  was  vanquished,  power- 
less. '  '<  uld  he  have  f  i  S  :dan  as  in  a 
nightmare?  fore  leaving  tl  I  Chalons 
one  of  the  Emperor's  last  acts  was  the  nomination 
of  General  Trochu  as  Governor  of  Paris.  Trochu 
proved  as  great  a  traitor  as  ever  lived.  In  swear- 
ing to  protect  the  Empress,  he  said,  "  Trust  me — 
je  suis  Breton,  soldat,  et  catholique!  ' 

It  was  said  that,  finding  all  other  arguments 
insufficient  to  deter  the  Emperor  from  retreating 
on  Paris,  the  Empress  wrote  :  "//  you  leave  : 
Army,  all  Pari*  will  say  you  fled  from  the  dangers 
of  war.  Do  you  forget  that  Prince  Napoleon  has 
never  lived  down  the  rash  act  he  committed  in 
returning  from  the  Crimea?' 

General  Trochu,  whom  I  have  just  called  a 
traitor,  managed  to  gain  the  entire  confidence  of 
the  Empress.  Almost  his  first  act  was  to  chan 
the  troops  guarding  the  pala<  Her  dragoons 
were  relieved  of  their  office.  Jerome,  horrified, 
rushed  to  the  Empress.  Trochu's  soldiers  sur- 
rounded  the  palace.     On  being  admitted  to   her 

197 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Majesty,  Jerome  said  :  "  Madame,  I  am  here  to 
inform  your  Majesty  that  you  are  a  prisoner — 
Trochu's  soldiers  guard  the  Tuileries.  You  are  a 
prisoner  in  your  own  palace — I  can  no  longer 
protect  you." 

She  laughed.  "And  am  I  not  safe  with 
General  Trochu?"  she  questioned.  "I  have 
confided  myself  to  his  honour !  " 

No  doubt,  if  the  Empress  ever  writes  her 
memoirs 1  she  will  not  neglect  to  explain  how 
Jerome  implored  her  to  reflect — how  he  entreated 
her  to  order  the  return  of  her  dragoons — to 
entrust  him  once  again  with  her  safety.  She  was 
not  to  be  moved — Fate,  I  suppose,  willed  it  so. 
Jerome  was  in  despair.  He  came  to  the  Avenue 
Montaigne  and  bade  me  from  that  hour  to  be  pre- 
pared for  the  worst  that  could  befall  us — a  revolu- 
tion in  Paris.  Alas  !  we  had  not  long  to  wait — 
Sedan  was  close  upon  us.  .    .  . 

1  In  January  1910,  the  following  letter  appeared  in  the 
Times  : — 

Sir, — The  Empress  Eugenie,  wishing  to  contradict  persis- 
tent rumours  about  the  publication  of  memoirs  attributed  to 
her,  which  are  to  appear  after  her  death,  instructs  me  to  apply 
to  the  Times  in  order  to  state  that  she  has  not  written,  and  is 
not  writing,  any  memoirs,  and  that  any  publication  of  that  kind 
would  be  apocryphal. 

In  requesting  you  to  give  this  letter  the  requisite  publicity, 
her  Majesty  hopes  to  put  an  end  to  those  false  rumours  and 
make  known  the  truth. 

Please  accept,  Sir,  the  assurance  of  my  distinguished  con- 
sideration. 

Franceschini  Pietri, 
Secretary  of  H.M.  the  Empress  Eugdnie. 
198 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

The  Emperor  had  abd  governn 

in  Paris  into  the  hands  of  the  Regent.  At  Metz 
he   abdicated    the    command    of   the    Army.     A 

4 

sovereign  dethroned— an  emperor  without  the 
command  of  his  arm)      was  there  ever  a  monarch 

in    such    a    p  i?      He    knew  that  unless   he 

ris,  all  must  be  l<  History  will  no 

doubt  tell  some  day  why  he  was  kept  away — but 
shall   never   know    th<  ret  feelings   which 

mpted  him  to  disregard  the  warnings  of  Prince 
Napoleon — the    \  of    his    heart — and    obey 

instead  the  instructions  from  the  Regent — instruc- 
tions forbiddinj  n  the:  return  of  her  son  the 
Prince  Imperial.  The  Emperor  wished  to  send 
the  Prince,  already  ill  with  fever,  hack  to  Paris, 
but  this   also   was   most   strongly  ol 

I  have   no  diary,  no  notes,  no  letters,  to  help 
to  precise  dat  Three  are  graven  forever 

on  my  memory  -on  my  heart  :  Reichsoffen — 
Graveli »tte     >  dan. 

It  must  have  been  about  the  20th  of  August 
that  Achille  —now  convalescent— determined  to 
send  his  wife  and  child  safely  out  of  France.  He 
confided  them  to  Mr.  Garden,  an  Englishman 
whom  In-  had  known  lor  some  years,  and  who 
red  them  the  hospitality  of  one  of  his  English 
homes.  Mr.  Garden  kindly  accompanied  to 
England  my  mother,  m\  sister-in-law  and  Aunt 
fane,  my  mother's  sister,  who  had  never  left  her. 
She  was  eighty-four  but  stronger,  younger,  braver 


MY   MEMOIRS 

than  any  among  us  in  this  dreadful  crisis  of  our 
lives. 

A  summons  came  for  "  Lieutenant  Prince 
Murat"  to  join  without  delay,  and  so  I  was  left 
alone  with  my  father.  Guy  was  a  great  source  of 
comfort  to  me — his  childish  chatter  was  the  only 
diversion  in  our  misery,  though  he  was  far  more 
serious  than  most  children  of  his  age  ;  brought  up 
almost  from  his  babyhood  with  people  much  too  old 
for  his  years ;  no  romps,  no  games,  no  shouts  such  as 
English  children  enjoy  ;  no  noise,  no  loud  speaking, 
no  boisterous  laughter  was  allowed  in  his  nursery. 
My  mother  suffered  terribly  from  nervous  head- 
ache, and  the  whole  house  was  silent  from  every 
noise.  On  this,  Guy's  seventh  birthday,  August 
1 8,  I  had  sent  him  in  a  victoria  for  a  long  after- 
noon in  the  Bois.  The  Pre  Catalan  was  one  of  his 
favourite  drives ;  he  often  went  and  drank  his 
milk  just  hot  from  his  pet  cow.  On  this  day,  how- 
ever, he  did  not  reach  the  Bois.  In  the  avenue 
leading  to  it  (Avenue  du  Bois  de  Bologne)  his 
carriage  was  run  into  by  a  clumsy,  drunken  driver. 
He  was  thrown  out,  as  well  as  the  woman  with  him, 
and  brought  back  to  me  in  what  seemed  an  alarm- 
ing state.  His  head  was  seriously  cut,  one  eye 
not  to  be  seen  ;  bruised,  swollen  and  covered  with 
blood.  He  was  convinced  that  the  driver  was  a 
Prussian  who  had  knocked  him  over  on  purpose. 
He  certainly  looked  as  if  he  had  come  from  the 
war. 
200 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

The  doctor  ordered  us  to  have  his  hair  cut. 
The  long  i  url  •  fi  11  around  me — ti  that  had 

reached  nearly  to  his  waist.  He  looked  a  sight, 
and  I  wa  vexed !     Is  ii  that 

at  a  time  when  the  fate  of  an  Empire  was  at  stak 
at  a  time  when  a  day,  an  hour,  might  mean  exile, 
when  we  slept  .ill  dressed  ready  for  a  flight  by 
night,  so  small  a  thing  as  a  child's  curls  should 
trouble  mi  :  Y<  i.  I  was  much  troubled,  and, 
ithering  a  few  oi  the  fallen  locks,  1  sent  them 
to  Meiller,  our  jeweller  in  the  Rue  de  la  Paix, 
who  formed  them  into  a  cluster  under  glass,  with 
a  silver  rim.      1    ;till  have  them. 

Da)  5  went  slowly  by.  On  the  31st  of  August 
we  heard  of  the  Emperor  at  Sedan.  "  1  [e  seemed 
agitated,  restless,  preoccupied;  those  around  him 
gave  him  from  time  to  time  details  of  the  opera- 
tions ol  the  Army.  He  walked  up  and  down  the 
room  unceasingly,  answered  by  monosyllables, 
and  relapsed   into  long  silences." 

It  was  not  till  the  afternoon  of  the  2nd  of 
September  that  we  heard  of  the  dreadful  and 
never-to-be-forgotten  battle.  On  this  afternoon 
I  was  particularly  nervous  and  anxious.  Instead 
ol  our  accustomed  drive  to  the  Bois  we  drove 
aloiiLT  the  Boulevards  to  the  Chateau  d'Eau.      1 

o 

wanted  to  see  the  people  and  judge  of  the  look  of 
things.  On  our  way  back,  as  we  reached  the 
Boulevard  des  [taliens,  we  saw  some  one  waving 
from  the  top  oi  an  omnibus.      The  carriage  stopped 


:o  1 


MY   MEMOIRS 

and  drew  up  on  one  side.  M.  de  Chevarier,  a 
cousin  of  M.  de  Chassiron's,  came  quickly  forward. 
Speaking  low,  he  told  us  of  the  dreadful  disaster 
of  Sedan.  So  far,  the  fatal  news  was  only  known 
to  her  Majesty  and  the  Government.  Every- 
thing was  in  a  frightful  confusion.  Chevarier  had 
been  to  the  War  Office  to  hear  of  his  brother,  an 
officer  with  MacMahon.  We  drove  home  as  fast 
as  possible  and  found  Jerome  waiting  for  us. 
He  attempted  to  see  the  Empress,  but  was  not 
able  to  break  through  the  orders — or  rather  the 
members  of  the  Imperial  household  who  filled  the 
ante-rooms  and  constituted  themselves  into  a  sort 
of  bodyguard  through  which  no  member  of  the 
family,  no  real  friend,  was  allowed  to  penetrate. 
He  was  obliged  to  return  immediately  to  the 
Ecole  Militaire.  He  left  us  with  a  heavy  heart, 
and  the  certainty  that  a  more  dire  catastrophe 
than  had  yet  befallen  us  was  at  hand. 

On  September  4  —  it  was  Sunday  —  about 
five  o'clock  in  the  morning,  an  estafette  came 
thundering  full  gallop  from  the  Tuileries.  Orders 
to  leave  Paris  without  delay.  My  father  deter- 
mined to  remain  till  the  evening  train,  in  the  hope 
that  he  might  see  and  be  of  some  service  to  the 
Empress. 

As  I  write,  the  scenes  come  so  vividly  to  my 
mind — I  seem  to  be  myself — to  live  again  those 

days  of  anxious    waiting,   hoping,   dreading   one 

202 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

knew    not   what — days   now  bereft  of  all  feeling 

the  the  longing  to  g<  >  back,  tl 

sorrow  that  I  am  no  longer  myself  e  it  in  a 
vision  of  tl  t     a  dream  that  has  no  morrow. 

.  .  .  Thirty  long  years  have  passed  over  my  head 
since   then,  brin  great    blessings,  great    j<>\ 

gre  n  happine  irrows,  too — griff  for  the  loved 

ones  lost  ;  yet  through  them  all,  deep  down  in  my 
heart,  night  and  day,  there  is  a  voice  that  whispers 
with  a  sadness  that  knows  no  words,  and  I  stretch 
out  my  arms  as  if  they  were  wings  and  could  carry 
me  over  the  seas,  back  to  France  and  years  that 
can  never  return.   .   .   .   Ah  ! 

A  knock  at  my  door — a  slate  handed  to  me — 
I  see  boiled  beef,  roast  chicken,  curried  rabbit — 
1  am  on  earth  again  .  .  .  my  visions  have  tied. 
.  .  .  The  reality  of  life  is  before  me.  .  .  .  My 
brain  struggles  down  to  the  ordering  of  beet  and 
mutton  —with  a  variation  of  veal  ;  what  old  Mrs. 
Paterson  called  "menial  occupations." 

On    this  same   4th  of  September  th  tes  of 

the  Palace  Royal  opened  wide,  and  the  Princess 
.  in  her  barouche,  with  tour  horses  and 
outrider-,  as  if  she  were  going  to  some  official 
ceremony,  drove  through.  Crossing  the  Place 
du  Palais  Royal  to  the  Rue  de  Rivoli,  she  drove 
on  through  the  most  crowded  parts  of  Paris  to  the 
Gare  de   Lyon,  en  route   for    Italy.     Some  man. 

203 


MY   MEMOIRS 

running  towards  her,   called    out,    "  La  Chambre 
est  dissoute—  la  decheance  est  proclame  !  " 

With  an  English  passport  taken  in  the  adopted 
name  of  Mrs.  Fraser,  procured  from  Lord  Lyons 
by  Mr.  Garden,  with  Guy,  and  accompanied  by 
an  old  friend  who  had  been  for  years  accustomed 
to  travel  with  my  father,  I  drove  to  the  Gare  du 
Nord  in  my  father's  carriage,  with  liveried  ser- 
vants. With  the  exception  that  there  were  per- 
haps more  people  about  than  was  usual  at  so  early 
an  hour,  that  no  hats  went  off  as  we  passed,  that 
groups  of  people  stood  here  and  there  talking, 
agitated  and  gesticulating,  I  noticed  nothing  in 
any  way  disturbing,  and  arrived  at  my  destination 
without  the  slightest  hindrance.  At  Creil,  my 
sister,  the  Duchess  de  Mouchy,  joined  the  train 
coming  from  Mouchy.  She  stayed  at  Boulogne 
with  her  two  children.  I  went  on  to  Calais, 
where  I  spent  the  night  in  hopes  the  Prince 
might  join  me.  I  had  left  him  going  to  the 
Tuileries. 

The  Government  was  now  incapable  of  stem- 
ming the  torrent.  The  insurrection  threatened 
the  palace — already  filled  the  gardens.  Another 
moment  and  the  Tuileries  would  be  invaded  by 
the  populace,  shouting,  clamouring,  for  the  fall  of 
the  Empire — for  a  proclamation  declaring  the 
downfall,  the  banishment  of  Napoleon  III  and  all 
his  dynasty. 

The    Empress    was    gone.     Even    while    my 
204 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    \\  AB 

father  was  tryi  his   way  through  the 

..J.   her   Majesty,  I   at   last   that  she 

could  not  rely  on  Trochu,  wh  ly  the         ning 

>re,   kneeling   at   her    feet  that   if    her 

was  invaded  it  would  be   becaus<     rrochu 

was  dead — swore  that  order  should  be  maintaii 

that  sh  ls  he  lived  ;  seeing  now, 

too  lat  folly  oi  putting  her  trust  in  such  a 

man,  sh<  >ented  to  fly.      Between   Metternich 

and   N  n  Austria  and   Italy,   with  her 

Mme.   Le   Breton,  and   a  hat  and  cloak 

taken  hastily  from  one  of  her  ladies-in-waiting,  the 

Empress— the    Regent — was    hurried    along    the 

underneath  galleries  of  the  Louvre.  ng  out 

on   to   the   1'lace  de  St.  Germain  l'Auxerrois,  she 

leant,  thickly  veil  tinst  the  iron  railings  just 

opposite  the  old  church  of  St.  Germain  I'Auxer- 

— the  old  church   from   which  was  given  the 

nal  for  the  mas  acre  of  the  St.  Bartholomew. 

The   Empress  waited  for   M.  de  Metternich's 

Lrou- ham.      Nigra,   fearing  she  might  1 

nized,  hailed   a   fiacre.     As   it  drew    up,   a  street 

boy — gamin  de  Paris  -ran  by,  calling  out,  "  ( 

r  Imp^ratVi      '  Nigra     quickly      helped      the 

Empress    into  the  fiacre,  and  gave   the  order  to 

drive  to  a  house  in  one  of  the   Faubourgs,  where 

a  room  had  b<  icured  by  Prince   Metternich. 

They    had    only    gone    a    few    yards    when    the 

Empress  saw  it  would  be  impossible  to  reach  the 

Faubourg  St.  Antoine.     Mme.  1  ton  put  her 

205 


MY   MEMOIRS 

head  out  of  the  window  and  cried  to  the  driver, 

"Turn    your   horses    and    go    up    the"    Champs 

Elys^es    to    the    Avenue    du  Bois  de  Boulogne. 

Drive  as  fast  as  you  can !  "     They  reached  the 

Avenue  and  stopped  the  fiacre  at  the  house  of  the 

American  dentist,  Dr.  Thomas  Evans.     He  had 

attended  the  Empress  for  many  years,  and,  indeed, 

all  the  crowned  heads  of  Europe.     Such  a  nice 

man  !     I    knew   him    well — he    had  tortured  me 

since  my  earliest  girlhood.     The  Empress  threw 

herself  on  his  mercy,  implored,  almost  in  hysterics, 

his  help.     It  was  a  serious  undertaking.     Already, 

he  feared,  it  was  too  late  to  attempt  flight.     The 

Empress  urged  that  she  must  leave  Paris  or  be 

arrested  or  torn  to  pieces  by  the  infuriated  mob. 

Dr.  Evans  no  longer  hesitated.      He  ordered  his 

carriage,  and,  placing  the  Empress  and  Madame 

Le    Breton    inside,  he  took    the    reins    from    his 

coachman,  and  himself  sent  his  American  trotters 

along  at  full  speed.     At  a  dashing  pace  he  drove 

through  Paris,  determined  to  gain  a  seaport  from 

which  her  Majesty  could  get  to  England.     He 

drove   his    horses    till    they    fell — broken    down. 

Luckily,  thirty  years   ago,   post-horses  could  still 

be  had,  and   they  were  able  to  reach  Deauville. 

Not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost.     They  were  still 

in  France. 

Hearing  that  Sir  John  Burgoyne's  yacht — the 

Gazelle — was  in  harbour,  Dr.  Evans  went  to  him 

and  explained   the   position,  asking  him  to  take 
206 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    WAR 

charge  of  the  Empre  I  ugenie  and  her  com- 
panion. Sir  |ohn,  I  beli  was  persuaded  with 
difficulty.     The.-  sea  was  rough,  the-  responsibility 

at.  I  lowever,  he  at  last  consented  and,  taking 
the  fugitiv<  t  sail   for    England  as 

quickly  .is  possible. 

After    a   very    rough    pas  -the   Empress, 

fortunately,  is  a   very   good  sailor  and  loves  the 
a— they  landed  at   Hastings.     All  this  I  heard 
later  <  »n. 

Meanwhile   1   left  Calais  on   September  5  by 

the  early   boat.       Mr.   Garden    met   me,    and    we 

arrived   at    Fairlawn,    his  place   near   Walton-on- 

Thames,  where  my  mother,  aunt,  and  sister-in-law 

\uu\   been   for  some   little   time-.      My   sister,    the 

Duchess  de   Mouchy,   crossed   from   Boulogne  a 

w  days   later,    made;   her  way   to    London,    and 

occupied    a  suite  of  rooms  at   Fleming's   Hotel, 

Half-Moon   Street.      Almost  on    her    arrival   she 

r  ceived  a  telegram  from  the   Empress.      "Send 

ur  ma         ith  all  I  rued.     I  have  not  even   a 

pocket-handkerchief" 

The    Empress  was  in    England  several  days 
without  tidings  of  the    Emperor,   hut  the   l'rin 
Imperial    was     with     1  We    knew     that     the 

Emperor  had  capitulated,  that  he  was  a  prisoner 
at  Wilhelmshohe. 

We  were  anxious  to  have  news  of  my  brother 
Achille-.  It  had  been  his  misfortune  to  carry,  by 
the  Emperor's  orders,  the  white  flag   through  the 

207 


MY   MEMOIRS 

streets  of  Sedan.  He  was  taken  prisoner  to 
Germany,  and  never  left  the  Emperor.  The 
Prince  Imperial  was  safe — Commandant  Duperre" 
had  charge  of  him,  and  was  able  to  reach  Arsenes 
on  the  road  to  Landriens.  It  was  there,  at  an  inn 
just  out  of  the  town,  that  they  heard  of  the  battle 
— of  the  capitulation — of  the  Emperor,  prisoner 
of  the  King  of  Prussia.  The  poor  little  Prince, 
ill,  scarcely  able  to  stand  with  fatigue,  implored 
Duperr£  to  retrace  their  steps.  He  must  join 
the  Emperor.  "  Duperr£,  why  am  I  here  ? 
They  are  fighting.  I  want  to  return  to  the  Army. 
I  must  fight,  too.  I  am  not  ill.  I  am  well.  I 
must  go  back.  I  must  fight !  "  Saying  this,  he 
tried  to  stand  up,  but  his  strength  failed  him  and 
he  fell  back  in  his  chair. 

At  this  moment,  a  dispatch  arrived  from  the 
Emperor.  "  Je  suis  prisonnier  du  Roi  de  Prusse. 
Emmenez  le  Prince  en  Angleterre."  This 
telegram,  sent  two  days  before,  never  reached 
Arsenes  till  the  morning  of  the  4th  of  September. 
A  carriage,  or  rather  a  one-horse  conveyance, 
was  procured,  and  the  Prince,  in  slight  disguise, 
left,  escorted  by  Duperre- — almost  at  the  same 
moment  that  the  Empress  entered  the  fiacre  that 
was  to  take  her  to  the  house  of  Dr.  Evans. 
About  midnight  the  Prince,  with  Duperr£  and 
Adolphe  Clary,  reached  Namur.  He  spent  the 
night  at  the  Chateau  de  Chimay,  house  of  the 
governor  of  the  province.  Leaving  Namur,  they 
208 


THE    FRANCO-PRUSSIAN    \\  AK 

reached  Ostend  ontheevenin       I  the  5th.     Tl 
stayed    the    ni  it    the     1  Idtel    d'Allen 

In  the   Prin  if  health  some  hour 

were  indispensable.     On  the  6th  they   took  the 
it  tor  Dover  and  went  on  to   Hastings  to  meet 
the  Empress. 

ircely  a  month  had  elapsed  since  he  left  the 
Palace  of  St.  Cloud  -a  proud  and  happy  boy. 
He  little  dreamt  he  was  going  to  defeat  .  .  .  to 
ruin   .    .   .    t  1  exil  •.    .   .    . 


209 


CHAPTER  IX 

EXILES    IN    ENGLAND 

Camden  Place,  Chislehurst — Miss  Howard — The  Emperor  a 
prisoner  of  war  —  The  Prussians  in  possession  —  Prince 
Leopold  v.  Hohenzollern — Buzenval — Monseigneur  Bauer 
— Paris  in  London — The  Princess  Mathilde — The  Empress's 
suite  at  Chislehurst — The  price  of  a  horse — The  Empress 
visits  the  prisoner  at  Wilhelmshohe — General  Bourbaki — 
Marshal  Bazaine's  plan  to  place  the  Prince  Imperial  on  the 
throne  rejected  by  the  Empress — Her  policy  discussed — 
A  winter  shooting  party  —  "  Brab  "  a».I  others  —  Lord 
Granville's  solicitude — The  ex-Emperor's  release  and  retreat 
to  England — Mr.  Gladstone — A  railway  adventure — Princess 
Metternich 

At  Fairlawn  we  had  a  restless,  unsettled  life. 
My  father  had  taken  rooms,  a  first  floor  in  Half- 
Moon  Street.  Part  of  my  days  were  spent  with 
him.  My  sister  was  to  find  a  suitable  residence 
for  the  Empress.  We  visited  a  great  number  of 
country  places.  The  one  we  preferred  belonged 
to  the  Sassoons,  a  pretty  place  near  Weybridge. 
It  was  all  settled  and  the  agreement  nearly  signed 
when  the  Empress  wrote  to  say  she  had  decided 
on  a  house  offered  her  by  a  Mr.  Strode,  who  had 
known  the  Emperor  well  when  Prince  Louis 
Napoleon,  and  who  urged  the  acceptance  of 
Camden   Place,   Chislehurst,   at  a  nominal  rent. 

2IO 


!  Ill       I   Mil   1  III 


EXILES    IX    ENGLAND 

Mr.  Strode  had  been  tru  nd  guardian  to 

a  very   beautiful  and   wealthy   young   woman,   a 
Miss   II  iward,  wh  Lcquaintance   Trine-  Louis 

Napoleon  ma  he  lived  in  England.     Her 

real   name   was    Elizabeth   Ann    Haryett.     Wh) 
she  assumed  the  name   Howard  1  do  not  know. 
I  ler  London  house  was  the  re     rt  oi  many  fashion- 
able men  of  the  time,  th     1  I  ike  of  B<  .  ifort,  the 
Earl  of  Chesterfield,  the  Earl  of  Malmesbury,  and 
Count  d'Orsay  being  among  others  of  her  favoun  d 
admirers.      She   was    a    woman    of  exquisite    pro- 
portions and  classic  beauty,  with   regular  featun 
and  magnificent  shoulders.      Louis  Napoleon  first 
met  her,  1  I  elieve,  at  the  house  of  Lady  Blessin 
ton  in  Kensington,  and  was  at  once  attracted  by 
her.      Siie  put  her  wealth,  as  well  as  her  person,  at 
his  disposal,  and  advanced  large  sums  of  mom  . 
towards  the  equipment  of  his  historic  adventure 
at    Boulogne.      She    is  said  to  have    visited   him 
when  he    was   a   prisoner   in   the  fortress  of  Ham, 
and  on  his  escape  their  liaison  was  renewed.      She 
followed  his  fortunes  to  Paris  when  the  Revolution 
of    [848    and   the   fall  of    Louis    Philippe   opened 
the  doors  of  France  to  the  exiled.     She  resid< 
at    first   at   the    Hotel    Meurice  in    the    Rue    de 
Rivoli,   but  afterwards,  when   the   Prince  became 
President,  a  little   house   in  the    Rue   de  Cirque, 
near  the  Elysde,  was  provided  for  her  and  here 
N  ipoleon    spent    many    evenings,    and     met    his 

intimal  Few    women    were    found    there,    but 

02  -01 


MY   MEMOIRS 

several  Englishmen,  among  them  the  Marquis 
of  Hertford,  were  often  visitors.  Miss  Howard 
never  made  her  appearance  in  official  or  family 
entertainments.  She  accompanied  the  President, 
however,  in  all  his  tours  through  the  provinces, 
having  her  private  suite  and  escort.  She  was  made 
much  of  by  all  courtiers,  and  liked  by  most  of  the 
Princes  of  the  family.  Recognizing  the  futility  of 
aspiring  to  a  higher  position,  she  intimated  that 
she  would  favour  an  alliance  between  the  Prince- 
President  and  myself.  I  suppose  it  might  have 
been  seriously  thought  of,  but  I  was  then — end  of 
1849 — just  sixteen.  The  idea  of  marrying  the 
Prince  filled  me  with  dismay.  He  was  not  young, 
he  was  not  handsome,  he  danced  badly,  had  no 
ear  for  music,  could  never  keep  time  or  measure. 
I  was  qualified  by  Miss  Howard  as  cette  petite 
sotte  who  might  be  one  day  Empress  of  the 
French  :  the  last  thing  in  the  world  I  should  ever 
have  wished  to  be.  After  the  Coup  dEtat  Miss 
Howard  was  given  the  title  of  Countess  de 
Beauregard,  two  millions  of  francs,  a  beautiful 
place  at  La  Belle  St.  Cloud,  called  "  Beauregard," 
and  an  allowance  of  some  thousands  a  year.  In 
1854,  a  year  after  the  wedding  of  the  Emperor, 
she  married  Mr.  Clarence  Trelawney,  an  officer 
in  the  Austrian  Army.1  Her  marriage,  however, 
ended  in  a  divorce.     She  died  in   1865. 

1  "  One  night  I  went  to  the  opera  with  Cardigan,  and  we 
saw  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clarence  Trelawney  in  a  box.  Mrs.  Trelawney 
212 


EXILES    IN    ENGLAND 

Her  former  guardian,  Mr.  Strode,  was  a 
constant  visitor  in  Paris.  When  he  bought  and 
restored  Camden    Place,  he  is  supposed  to  hive 

id  that  he  did  so  foreseeing  that  the  day  would 
com-:  when  it  would  be  required  lor  the  fallen 
Emperor.  The  place  had  been  unlet  for  several 
years.  I  have  heard  a  legend  that  an  old  couj 
to  whom  the  house  belon  fed  had  been  one  night 
mysteriously  murdered,  it  was  supposed  by  their 
only  son,  with  the  aid  of  their  one  servant,  but 
nothing  could  be  proved  against  them.  I  he 
Empress  occupied,  1  believe,  at  Camden  Place, 
the  room  in  which  this  double  murder  was 
committed.  It  is  said  that  these  circumstances 
being    told    at    Chislehurst    cast    an    additional 

"Om  over  the  first  days  of  their  arrival   in   their 
new  abode. 

Mr.  Garden  offered  to  be  the  b<  arer  of  letters 
and  dispatches  to  Wilhelmshohe,  and  his  offer 
was  accepted.  He  took  a  friend  with  him,  and 
.it  his  own  expense  made  his  way  to  Germany. 

was  the  famous  Mis  11  fvard,  once  the  mistress  of  Louis 
Napoleon,  who  paid  her  ^250,000  when  he  renounced  her 
to  marry  Euge'ne  de  Montijo.  Mis.  Trelawney  annoyed  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  as  much  as  she  dared  by  sitting  opposite 
the  Royal  box  at  the  opera  and  driving  almost  immediately 
behind  them  in  the  B  i  de  Boulogne.  She  was  a  very  fat 
man,   and  her  oint  in  .    to   such  an  extent   that 

thi  of  her  carriage  had  to  be  enlarged  to  allow  her  to 

in  and  out  with  comfort." — My  Recollections,  by  the  Countess  of 
<  Cardigan,  p.  104. 

213 


MY  MEMOIRS 

He  was  allowed  to  go  to  the  Emperor,  whom  he 
found  very  ill  and  suffering.  He  brought  letters 
back  to  the  Empress,  and  also  letters  from  my 
brother,  telling  us  of  the  pain  the  Emperor  was 
in  day  and  night,  both  physical  and  moral.  They 
were  so  miserable  themselves  that  they  did  not 
know  how  to  cheer  him.  Mr.  Garden  said  that 
Achille  read  to  the  Emperor  for  hours  together. 
The  book  he  read — strange  to  say — was  Alex- 
andre Dumas'  Trots  Mousquetaires.  The  Emperor 
had  never  heard  of  it,  and  finding  the  book  at 
Wilhelmshohe,  my  brother  read  it  to  him,  reading 
for  hours  without  stopping,  when  it  seemed  to 
soothe  the  nerves  and  take  the  prisoner's  mind 
away — for  a  time  at  least — from  the  remembrance 
of  Sedan.  He  could  not  forgive  himself  that  he 
was  still  alive.  He  had  vainly  sought  death  all 
through  that  agonizing  day. 

The  Empress  and  my  sister  had  both  sent 
their  most  valuable  jewels  to  Mr.  Gladstone  for 
safe  keeping  long  before  the  fatal  4th  of  Septem- 
ber ;  but  many  of  their  personal  possessions  had 
been  left  behind.  The  Duke  of  Hamilton  offered 
to  go  to  France.  He  crossed  in  his  yacht,  the 
Thistle,  and  applied  to  General  Trochu  for  per- 
mission to  rescue  from  the  Tuileries  some  of  the 
Empress's  things.  Trochu  sent  one  of  his  officers 
with  the  Duke,  and  they  were  able,  notwithstand- 
ing the  upside-down  condition  of  everything  and 

everybody  in  the  palace,  to  pack  furs,  laces,  fans, 
214 


EXILES    IX    ENGLAND 

jewels,  knick-knacks,  and  a  large  quantity  of  her 
wardn  >b  •.  with  which  1  lamilton  arrived  .it  Camden 
Place. 

I  ,un  rather  vague  as  to  dates,  but  I  think  it 
was  on  the  19th  of  September  that  Paris  was 
closed.     Th<  in.     After  this  we  had   no 

communication  except  by  pigeons,  by  balloons, 
or  through  the  Prussian  lines.  The  I  Hike  de 
Mouchy  remained  in  France — never  left  Mouchy 
for  an  hour.  I  verything  there  was  kept  up  as  in 
the  days  of  our  prosperity.  Liter  on  a  Prussian 
General  and  his  stall'  were  quartered  at  the 
chateau.  They  were  assigned  rooms  in  one  of 
the  wings,  and  they  behaved  with  the  utmost 
discretion,  using  the  back  stairs,  and  never  once 
in  any  way  intruding  their  presence  upon  the 
Duke.  My  own  place  near  Meaux  was  very 
differently  treated,  owing,  probably,  to  my  absent 
I  had  for  ten  months  a  regiment  of  cavalry,  or  part 
of  one.  in  possession  of  my  dear  heme.  They 
began  by  breaking  into  the  cellars,  and  were  for 
days  in  a  state  of  intoxication.  They  looted 
everything.  They  masqueraded  about  Meaux  in 
my  dresses,  tea-gowns,  cloaks,  hats,  to  the  great 
amusement  of  the  popula<  They  burnt  for  fire- 
wood my  orange  trees,  the  old  oak  sideboards, 
chairs  and  other  furniture.    At  last  my  agent  let  me 

know  that  they  threatened  to  set  tile  to  the  house. 
My  patience  was  at  an  end.  1  had  suffered  in 
silence-,    not   wishing    to   cry    mercy  ;     but    1    now 

-'5 


MY   MEMOIRS 

determined  to  write  to  my  cousin,  Prince  Leopold 
von  Hohenzollern,  and  ask  his  intervention.  I 
did  not  tell  him  that  at  the  last  extremity  only 
did  I  consent  to  accept  aid  and  protection  at  the 
enemy's  hands.  He  wrote  me  a  charming  letter, 
which  I  have  kept,  and  regretted  I  had  not 
sooner  appealed  to  him. 

Versailles, 

October  29,  1870. 

Ma  CHERE  Cousine, 

Je  m'empresse  de  r^pondre  a  votre 
lettre  que  je  viens  de  recevoir,  en  regrettant  de  ne 
pouvoir  y  ajouter  deja  le  laisser-passer  que  je  n'ai 
pu  obtenir  avant  de  pouvoir  presenter  un  signale- 
ment  exacte  de  la  personne  que  vous  voulez 
envoyer.  Veuillez  done  avoir  la  bont£  de  me  le 
faire  parvenir  aussitot  que  possible.  Voila  beau- 
coup  de  formalites,  mais  il  faut  compter  avec  des 
inconvenients  de  ce  genre  pendant  la  guerre. 

Je  pense  que  vous  voulez  diriger  le  valet  de 
chambre  a  La  Ferte  sous  Jouarre,  pres  de  Meaux 
— si  vous  m'  indiquez  le  nom  du  chateau,  cela  lui 
ferait  gagner  du  temps. 

Veuillez  accepter,  ma  chere  cousine,  l'expres- 
sion  de  mes  sentiments  les  plus  respectueux. 

Leopold  von  Hohenzollern.1 


1  Versailles, 

October  29,  1870. 

Mv  dear  Cousin, 

I  hasten  to  reply  to  your  letter  which  I  have  just 
received,  while  regretting  my  inability  to  include  with  it  at 
once  the  passport  which  I  have  not  been  able  to  procure  before 
presenting  an  exact  description  of  the  person  whom  you  wish 
to  send.  Will  you  then  be  so  kind  as  to  let  it  be  sent  to  me 
216 


EXILES    IX    ENGLAND 

I        Prussian  soldiers  were  removi  \  they 

left  bare  walls  behind  them.     They  killed  and 
my  dogs;  they  took  my  horses:   I  had  four  dark 
br<  iwn  mares,  a  perf<    I  I    im. 

Prince  Leopold  von  1  lohenzollern.whose  candi- 
dature i"  the  throne  of  Spain  was  the  ostensible 
r<-as>n  for  the  Franco- Prussian  war,  was  my 
cousin  on  the  Murat,  not  the  Bonaparte,  side. 
The  families  had  thus  intermarried.  My  father 
and  Prince  Hohenzollern's  mother  were  first 
cousins,  and  his  sister,  Princess  Frida,  married  my 
first  cousin,  the  Marquis  Pepoli.  We  were  very 
intimate  friends,  she  and  I.  Although  she  lived  in 
Italy,  she  came  frequently  to  stay  with  us  in  Paris. 
His  brother,  the  King  of  Roumania,  when 
Prince  Charles  Hohenzollern,  spent,  as  1  did,  the 
winter  of  1S62  at  Algiers.  He  was  there  for  the 
:e  of  his  health.  His  rooms  were  quite  near 
mine,  and  his  cough,  which  1  constantly  heard, 
was  a  source  of  great  distress  to  me.  I  left  the 
hotel  and  travelled  up  into  the  interior  of  the 
Province  as  far  as  Miliana.  On  my  return  the 
Prince  had  gone,  and  we  never  met  again. 


as  soon  ible?     What  a  number  of  formalities !     But  one 

must  reckon  with  inconvenien  this  kind  during  the  war. 

I  fancy  that  you  wish  to  direct  your  servant  to  La   Fi 
sous  Jouarre,  near  Meaux  -and  it  you  inform  me  of  the  name 
of  the  1  that  would  save  him  some  time. 

Believe  me,  my  d<\u  c<  lusin, 

¥<  mrs  sincerely, 
1     .pold  von  Hohenzollern. 

-17 


MY  MEMOIRS 

On  the  other  side  of  Paris,  in  a  park  of  400 
acres  clos  de  murs,  joining  on  one  side  the  Bois 
de  Versailles,  on  the  other  the  woods  of  St. 
Cucupha,  stood  Buzenval,  the  home  of  our  happy- 
days,  twenty  minutes'  drive  from  St.  Cloud,  facing 
the  Mont  Valerien,  within  a  walk  of  the  Malmaison. 
There  the  last  great  battle  round  Paris  was  fought, 
on  the  1 8th  of  January.  The  walls  all  riddled 
with  cannon  balls,  the  house  much  damaged.  I 
have  tried  to  get  a  photograph  of  the  place  to 
my  memory  so  dear,  but  I  suppose  none  have 
been  taken.  It  now  belongs  to  the  Cadores 
— I  hear  the  Duchess  lives  there  the  greater  part 
of  the  year.  The  architecture  of  Buzenval,  with 
its  round  towers  ending  in  a  point,  was  somewhat 
spoiled  by  the  building  of  a  huge  wing.  The 
Emperor,  who  often  visited  us  there,  always  said 
he  could  not  call  it  a  "  wing."  It  was  more  like 
an  "  enormous  thigh." 

How  little  we  dreamed  that  one  day  Buzenval 
was  destined  to  be  the  centre  of  a  mighty  battle — 
the  park  crowded  by  a  corps  d'arme'e — General 
Ducrot's — and  the  walls  partly  knocked  down  by 
Prussian  big  guns ! 

Almost  while  writing  the  above  I  receive  a 
letter  and  learn  that  Buzenval,  my  old  home,  is 
now  " letablissement  de  Freres  Saint  Nicolas." 
How  altered  the  place  must  be ! 

Outside  Paris,  at  Courbevoie,  between  Neuilly 
and  Rueil — the  station  for  Buzenval,  Jerome  was 
218 


EXILES    IN    ENGLAND 

quartered.  He  had  ord  to  take  command  of 
a  regiment  of   francs-tireurs.     Th<  he 

rt  1    them,    when    they    realized    who    their 

1     >lonel  laid   down   their  arms  and  de- 

clared they  would  not  fight  under  a  Bonapart 

Brought  up  in  America,  a  West   Point  Cadet, 
Je>dme  had  been  through  all  the  wars  of  Texas. 
He  proved  himself  equal  to  the  occasion.      He  v. 
calm   and    coolly  <  nined.      lie   told    them   he 

aid    s  .vn    every   man    who    refused    to 

fight.  They  felt  he  would  keep  his  word,  and 
were  soon  under  splendid  discipline.  He  com- 
mas le  I  them  through  the  v.  ol  the  campaign, 
and  officers  and  men  became  devoted  to  their 
Colonel,  who  did  not  leave  them  till  peace  was 
;ned  and  M.  Thiers  was  President  of  the 
Republic. 

Monseigneur  Bauer  was,  during  the  last  few 
weeks  of  the  Empire,  in  the  habit  of  saying  Mass 
for  the  Empress  in  the  private  chapel  of  the 
Tuileries.  He  was,  as  I  have  said,  confessor  and 
almoner  of  her  Majesty,  but  he  was  not  chaplain 
of  the    Tuileri  L'Abbe   Laine    was   the   Em- 

peror's private  chaplain.  Monseigneur  Bauer 
was  a  converted  Israelite.  Every  one  knows  that 
he  played  a  great  part  in  the  politics  of  the  Second 
Empire.  His  influence  in  private,  as  well  as  in 
public  affairs,  was  most  pernicious.  His  remorse 
must   have   been  I   saw   him   tor  the   last 

time  at  Chislehurst.     \Y         re  all  waiting  in  the 

219 


MY  MEMOIRS 

long  gallery  for  the  Empress,  as  she  passed  down 
the  centre  of  the  gallery,  lined  on  either  side  by 
family  officers  of  the  household.  A  great  number 
of  guests  had  come  over  from  France.  The  guilty 
priest  advanced  alone,  and  implored  pardon.  I 
could  not  catch  the  words,  but  his  humble 
attitude — that  said  enough.  I  found  it  in  my 
heart  to  be  sorry  for  his  humiliation,  although  I 
had  reason  to  be  personally  opposed  to  him.  I 
felt,  too,  the  situation  must  not  be  prolonged,  so, 
all  in  a  moment,  without  reflecting,  I  went  up  to 
the  Empress  and,  bending,  kissed  her  hand.  She 
kissed  me  and  passed  on.  Some  one  said  near 
me,  "  You  have  saved  the  situation,"  and  then  only 
I  realized  what  I  had  done.  I  must  leave  others 
to  tell  what  his  crime  was.  He  was  accused  of 
many  things,  but  one  person  alone  can  say  where 
truth  ends,  where  fiction  begins.  Of  one  thing, 
I  think,  there  is  little  doubt :  the  Empress  con- 
sidered he  had  behaved  in  a  way  to  deserve  the 
gravest  reproach. 

About  November  my  father  took  a  large  house 
in  the  Cromwell  Road.  My  mother's  health  had 
suffered  very  much  from  all  our  troubles.  She 
was  now  constantly  obliged  to  keep  her  room,  and 
the  greatest  care  was  taken  to  avoid  noise.  Some 
days,  poor  Guy,  when  coming  in  from  his  walk, 
would  take  off  his  boots  before  going,  on  tiptoe, 
to  her  room. 

My  sister  wished  to  be  with  the  Empress,  so 


220 


EXILES    IN    ENGLAND 

rented  t. ■■    Old    Hall,  quite  n  amden   Plai 

ied  for  si  >me  month        Prin< 
Metternich  was  at  the  '   larendon   Hotel.     G 
to  her  one  afternoon,  I  was  shown  into  I 

sitting-room.      I    suddenly    heard    a   splashing  of 

iter,  as  if  quite  near  me  ;  raising  my  <  I  saw 

a  high  screen  across  one  end  of  the  room. 
Presently  the  Princess  laughin  Jv  explained  that 
the  Prince  had  just  arrived,  and  that  the  hotel 
was  so  full  that  the  end  of  the  sitting-room  had 
been  given  him  for  a  dressingf-room— and  he  was 
in  his  hath  ! 

London   tor  the   time    being  had   turned   into 
Paris.     <  )n   ever)    side  a   chatter  of  French   was 

Lrd.     The    Faubourg    St.    Germain    and    the 
F     ib  »urg     St.     I  h  the    old    and    the    new 

aristocracy  of   Paris,    filled    London.     There  was 
not  a  house  from  <nd  to  end  of  Clarges    Street 
and     Half-Moon     Street     without   familiar    I 
Brighton,    too,    was    crowded    with    our    friends. 
Princess   Poni  ,ka  lived  over  a  baker's    shop 

in  the    King's    I  I    found   her  there  when  I 

went  on  a  Saturday  t<  >  Monday  visit  to  some  friends 
at  the  Bedford.      1    was  then  looking  for  a  house 

O 

for  Prim  ilathilde,  who  had  escaped  from  Paris 
just   i  the  with  the  aid  of  Alexandre 

Dumas  the  younger,  who  offered  her  the  hospital- 
ity ol  his  chalet  at  Dieppe  till  she  could  leave 
1' ranee.  I  uld  find  nothing  suitable  that  was 
not  exorbitant   in   pri< 

:  j  i 


MY  MEMOIRS 

From  Dieppe  she  went  to  Mons,  and  there 
I  wrote  to  her,  giving  her  what  news  I  could. 
She  wrote  to  me  in  response  : — 


Mons, 

October  9,   1870. 

My  dear  Caro, 

I  thank  you  for  your  kind  letter,  which  I 
found  waiting  for  me  here.  I  have  been  for  a  few 
days  to  the  Hague  with  the  Queen,  and  she  has,  I 
think,  been  even  more  affectionate  than  in  days 
gone  by.  In  spite  of  all  the  marks  of  affection 
and  devotion  that  I  received,  and  which  I  hardly 
had  the  right  to  expect,  I  am  horribly  sad,  and  my 
heart  is  broken.  I  remain  here,  not  knowing 
where  to  go,  and  not  wishing  to  leave  ;  besides,  I 
really  do  not  care.  Everything  is  indifferent  to 
me,  and  I  feel  so  overwhelmed  in  every  way  that 
I  have  not  the  courage  nor  the  desire  to  form  any 
plan.  I  should  like  to  know  Caponni  and  Paris 
saved  ! — all  the  people  I  have  left  there  in  safety, 
and  have  no  fresh  grief  to  weep  over.  I  often 
see  faces  I  know  passing  through  here.  There  is 
nothing  but  lamentation,  regret — and  winter  is 
coming  with  all  its  horrors.  Here  it  is  less  foggy 
than  in  England,  and  living  is  cheaper.  I  have 
not  received  a  single  letter  from  the  Empress  ;  I 
do  not  know  her  address,  and  I  do  not  know  if 
she  cares  to  hear  from  me.  I  hear  sometimes 
of  the  Emperor,  and  my  thoughts  often  turn 
towards  the  dear  little  Prince,  who  must  be  very 
unhappy,  far  from  his  father. 

Can  you  give  me  any  news  of  Aunt  Jane  ? 
Where  is  Malcy  ?  What  are  they  all  going  to  do  ? 
222 


EXILES    IN    ENGLAND 

It'  you  are  able,  return  to  France,  but  not  before  tl 
:  of  the  siege  of  Par    .     Where  is  Loulou  ? 
t  rive    me    all    the    n<  i    can    get    from 

anyone.    Write  to  me  1  Letters  are  quite  sai 

in  envel<  iddressed  to  Monsieur  de  Galbois  or 

to  M.  de  Giraud,  Poste  Restante,  Mons.  As  lor 
me,  I  embrace  you,  my  heart  tern  and  sad  unto 
death  most  discoui  !  and  asking  mysell  it 
life  I"-  desirable,  when  it  has  to  witness  such 
isters. 

Yours  affectionately, 

M. 

(  )ther  letters  which  I  n  '  in  quick  succes- 

sion show  her  yearning  for  news  and  her  despair 

at  our  disasters. 

Mons, 

October  15,  1870. 

Dear  Caro, 

Your  letters  have  given  me  great  pleasure, 
since  they  give  me  news  oi  events  and  oi  persons. 
1  did  not  know  of  the  death  of  Friand  and  of 
that  of  Mme.  de  la  Redorte.  They  are  perhaps 
h  ippier  than  we  !  We  are  not  at  the  end  of 
our  sufferings,  and  I  very  much  tear  that  when 
we  Paris  again,  it  will  lie  one  heap  o\  ruins. 

Th.it  will   he  the  crowning  tench. 

Here    the   letter  not  opened.     You  can 

write   what   you    wish. 

Have  you  see  Napoleon?1     They  say  that  he 

passes  his  evenings  with  Madame  ,  a  prett) 

pastime  ! 

Tell  me  if  the  Empress  has  been  able  to  save 

1  Her  brother,  Prince  Napoleon:  not  the  Kmpcror. 


MY   MEMOIRS 

her  jewels,  her  wardrobe,  and  all  the  possessions 
she  had  in  the  rooms  at  the  Tuileries.  I  should 
like   to  know  about  it  and  how   matters  stand. 

And  Anna,  is  she  not  anxious  about  Mouchy  ? 
Of  course,  I  mean  the  chateau.  St.  Gratien  is 
invaded  by  a  German  staff;  all  this  grieves  me 
intensely,  and  our  ruin,  which  is  so  complete  in 
every  way,  is  the  cause  of  the  most  terrible 
despair. 

Tell  me  all  that  She  does  from  morning  till 
evening.  Is  she  settling  down  where  she  is  ? 
How  far  from  London  is  Chislehurst  ?  Is  Metter- 
nich  with  her?  And  the  dear  child,  where  is  he  ; 
at  Hastings,  or  with  her  ?  Will  she  not  go  to  see 
him  ?  I  kiss  you,  I  embrace  you  with  all  my 
heart.     All  kind  regards  to  all  with  you. 

M. 

I  had  found  a  house  which  I  thought  would 
suit  her,  and  she  wrote  requesting  further  in- 
formation   concerning   it. 

Mons, 

October  17,  1870. 

My  dear  Caro, 

I  am  just  sending  you  a  line  and  shall  be 
glad  of  an  answer,  if  it  is  not  troubling  you  too 
much.  Tell  me  with  what  furniture  the  house  is 
let.  Is  it  clean  ?  And,  further,  are  there  kitchen 
utensils?  linen?  plate?  In  fact  everything?  Or 
ought  one  to  see  to  all  that  for  oneself? 

I  shall  be  coming  to  London  on  Sunday,  that 
is  why  I  should  prefer  the  outskirts,  but  quite 
near,  so  as  to  be  able  to  come  into  town  for 
trifles,  as  easily  as  I  did  from  St.  Gratien.  I  shall 
224 


EXILES    IN    ENGLAND 

not  leave  Mons  until  the  15th  November,  and  have 
made   no  plans.      I  am  beginning  to  get  anxious 

about  it.  Get  me  all  the  news  you  are  able 
to;  here,  no  one  knows  anything.  I  only  get 
the    Independance. 

What  is  the  Emperor  Napoleon  doing  ?  And 
Pierrie?  Whom  of  our  circle  do  you  see  ?  And 
what  hopes  have  they?  What  is  Anna  doing? 
Does  she  go  into  society  ?  And  where  will  she 
spend  the  winter?  Do  you  expect  to  return  to 
Paris  after  the  siege?  And  your  people?  This 
eneral  dispersal  is  very  hard.  Shall  we  ever  find 
ourselves  again — not  in  the  same  conditions,  but 
at   least   united  ? 

I  can  only  tell  you  one  thing,  which  is,  that 
I  cannot  conquer  my  feelings,  that  every  day  I 
become  more  sad,  and  that  I  am  in  despair.  I 
kiss  you   from   my   heart. 

Your  affectionate  Aunt, 

M. 

Do  not  speak  of  my  plan,  before  I  am  quite 
decided    about    it. 

Our  hopes  that  the   Princess   Mathilde   would 

(Mine  to  London  and  settle  down  in  the  house 
that  1  had  chosen  for  her  were  not  realized,  as 
will   be  seen   by  the  following  letter. 

Mons, 

October  28,  1870. 

My  dear  Caro, 

I    thank    you    for    your   kind   information, 

but  I  could  not  profit  by  it.      I  do  not  wish  to  go 

away,  and  after  the   capitulation  ^i    Met/    1    am 

awaiting  that  of  Paris.     1   am  sadder  than  ever  ; 

v  225 


MY  MEMOIRS 

there  is  nothing  left  but  our  complete  ruin,  and  I 
have  not  even  the  hope  of  better  days.  All  is 
lost,  and  I  do  not  yet  know  how  all  this  can  have 
happened.  Well,  we  must  bow  our  heads.  I 
hear  that  Anna  is  profiting  by  the  fine  weather  in 
London.  I  receive  letters  which  deal  only  with 
her  dresses  and  her  gaieties.  How  happy  it  is  to 
be  able  to  be  like  that,  and  how  much  better  it 
would  be  for  us  all,  could  we  follow  her  example. 
But  my  heart  is  broken.  I  saw  Fleury  in  Brussels. 
He  told  us  of  the  departure  of  the  Empress  ;  it  is 
he  who  made  all  arrangements  as  far  as  England. 
Give  me  all  your  news.  I  heard  of  the  down- 
fall of  Napoleon  and  of  the  Empress  ;  what  are  the 
Rouhers  doing  ?  I  am  as  sad  as  it  is  possible  to  be, 
and  daily  expect  to  hear  that  St.  Gratien  has  been 
sacked,  if  this  has  not  happened  already.  The 
innocent  pay  for  the  guilty.     I  embrace  you. 

M. 

Princess  Mathilde's  chateau  was  indeed  sacked 
and  left  in  ruins,  without  roof  or  windows. 

Eventually  Princess  Mathilde  went  to  Brussels, 
where  she  spent  the  winter,  and  where  I  suggested 
visiting  her,  since  she  could  not  come  to  London. 

Brussels, 

November  28,  1870. 
15  Rue  oTArtois. 

My  dear  Caro, 

I    shall    find    much    trouble    in    putting 

you  up  here.    There  is  no  room — not  even  in  the 

hotels,  and   I  know  persons  who  are  watching  all 

the  departures,   to   have   two   rooms    when   they 

would  need  at  least  six  ;  it  is  very  hard. 

226 


EXILES    IX    ENGLAND 

B  me,  over   tl  until 

:   of  Paris.      I    canm  >t  1  ■    it   will  be 

much  r  in  cumin         I   should  lik  know 

the  story  oi   P  iy. 

Why  i  not   thi     ,  l  de   Mont  :  | 

her  mother  at  Chal  t?     I   recei\ 

a  visit  from  t.      I      int  and  Count'         i    Flanders, 
though  I  h   '.  nothing  for  them  ;  they  made 

many  inquirie  Emperor  and   Empress 

and  after  the  little   Prince.  .   .  . 

,  )    out  very  little  and   see    few  people;  the 
we  ither  is  n  t  bad,  nor  very  cold;  there  is  no  news. 

Time  >wly   when  one  is  waiting,  and 

uncertainty  makes  it  still  more  cruel.  Mine. 
Machin  is  writing  a  nice  long;  letter  to  the  Em- 
peror.  It  does  one  good  to  see  that  one  is 
remembered  somewher  Nevertheless,  I  notice 
that  the  animosity  of  the  first  days  no  longer 
exists  .  .  .  and  although  the  faults  may  be  serious 
and  we  pay  lor  them  cruelly,  the  memory  of 
i  yars'  prosperity  cannot  be  wiped  out. 
All   has  been  ed    by  Her,   they   tell  me;  let 

us  hope  she  will    be  better  inspired  and   happier 
than  on  the  4th  September.     She  up  a  game 

which  was  still  playable  ;   but  after  all  ! 

Write  to  me,  give  mi:  some  news  ;  especially 
it"  you  have  an)'  from  l'aris  by  balloon.  What 
bad    luck    to  1m:   unable    to   make   anythin  ich 

its  destination  ! 

1  embrace  you  and  beg  you  t<>  remember  me 
to  all  yours.  Where-  is  Mal<  \  f  Again  a  thousand 
affectionate  mi  -s. 

M.1 

1    Her  friendship  with  Thiers  ei  Princess  Mathilde  to 

return  to  l'aris   during   the  early  days  of  the    Republic.      She 


MY  MEMOIRS 

Her  brother,  Prince  Napoleon,  had  taken  one 
of  the  large  houses  facing  Hyde  Park,  a  little 
lower  down  on  the  Marble  Arch  side.  The 
house  was  secured  under  the  impression  that  the 
Princess  Clotilde  would  come  to  Eno-land,  but 
she  remained  at  the  Chateau  de  Prangins,  till 
the  Emperor's  death  brought  her  for  a  short  time 
to  this  country. 

Prince  Napoleon's  visits  to  England  were 
short,  and  not  very  frequent.  He  preferred 
Prangins,  on  the  lake  of  Geneva,  where  the 
Princess  and  his  three  children  had  joined  him 
some  little  time  after  Sedan. 

The  few  people  who  composed  the  Empress's 
suite  were  the  Duke  de  Bassano,  Commandant 
Duperre\  Adolphe  Clary,  Pietri,  private  secre- 
tary, Dr.  Corvisart,  Madame  Clary  (who  with 
her  husband  had  a  house  at  Chislehurst),  Mme. 
Le  Breton,  and  Mademoiselle  Lermina.  A 
French  butler,  three  French  cooks  and  the  Prince 
Imperial's  valet,  the  faithful  Uhlmann,  composed 
the  French  contingent  of  the  household.  I  knew 
them  all,  but  best  of  all  I  knew  Clary.  Long 
before  he  belonged  to  the  Emperor's  entourage 
he  was  the  dearest  friend  of  my  cousins,  and  I 
saw  a  great  deal  of  him  during  the  winter  I  spent 


lived  then  in  the  Rue  de  Berri  and  at  the  restored  chateau  of 
St.  Gratien.     She  received  a  great  deal  in  an  intimate  way, 
though  she  did  not  give  large  functions.     She  died  in  Paris, 
January  1904,  the  Empress  visiting  her  on  her  death-bed. 
228 


EXILES    IX    ENGLAND 

.it    VI      rs,  where  he  was  quartered  with  his  reg 
ment.     I  r   him  at  that  time,  Febru 

i  .\  an  appointment  on  the  stafl  of  Bazaine  i  r 
some  general  nominated  to  take  part  in  tl 
Mexican  Campaign.  My  telegram  making  the 
request  was  ;ent  to  the  Emperor  at  Plombieres, 
and  I  got  my  answer,  "Impossible,"  before  my 
message  reached  the  person  to  whom  it  was 
addressed. 

Adolphe  Clary  had  a  pretty  country  seat  not 
very  tar  from  Paris.  The  same  agent  in  Paris 
actin  ■  for  us.  Finding  it  urgent  to  send  to 
La  Charloterie,  on  Clary's  business,  he  took  from 
my  stables  one  of  my  best  horses  and  dispatched 
a  messenger.  Both  horse-  and  rider  were  cap- 
tured by  the  Prussians.  The  agent  immediately 
wrote  to  both  of  us,  informing  us  of  what  had 
happened,  blaming  himself  for  what  he  had  done, 
and  saying  that  without  doubt  Clary  owed  me 
the  price  of  the  hors  I  should  certainly  at  any 
ordinary  time  not  have  claimed  any  indemnity, 
but  we  were  living  from  day  to  day  without  the 
possibilit)  of  getting  money  except  by  selling 
valuables  and  jewels.  1  asked  Clary  through  the 
agent  for  /  i<\  a  small  sum,  as  I  did  not  wish  to 
ask  more  than  was  paid  by  Government  tor  other 
horse  ,  I  )lary  refused,  and  rather  an  uncomfort- 
able  feeling  arose  in  consequence,  feeling  which 

a  year    later   was   destined    to   take   the    form    ol    a 

ious  litigation.     Large  cases  were  packed  and 


MY  MEMOIRS 

sent  from  Paris  in  the  spring  of  1871,  containing 
pictures  and  many  other  things  which  had  been 
saved  from  the  wreck.  One  of  these  cases,  sent  to 
me  by  mistake,  contained  a  very  valuable  family 
painting,  the  portrait  of  a  lady,  one  of  Clary's 
ancestors.  He  immediately  wrote  and  requested 
that  the  case  might  be  sent  on  to  Chislehurst.  I 
replied  that  I  had  no  desire  to  keep  the  picture, 
and  that  on  receiving  a  cheque  for  ^40,  the  price 
of  my  horse,  the  case  with  his  property  should  be 
sent.  He  was  very  angry,  threatened  legal  pro- 
ceedings, and  I  put  the  matter  into  the  hands  of 
my  English  solicitor,  with  the  result  that  I  received 
my  cheque  and  he  his  portrait. 

Some  years  after,  when  the  Empress  went  for 
a  winter  to  Florence  and  Rome,  Comte  Clary 
accompanied  her,  took  the  fever  and  died. 
Duperre\  the  old,  devoted  and  faithful  friend, 
could  not  stand  Clary  and  his  overbearing  ways. 
He  constantly  complained  to  me,  and  one  day 
told  me  with  tears  in  his  eyes  that  he  must  leave 
the  Prince  and  return  to  Paris  and  to  his  career 
as  soon  as  it  was  open  for  him  to  do  so.  He  said 
he  had  intended  never  leaving  their  Majesties, 
but  Clary  had  found  such  favour  in  the  eyes  of 
the  Empress,  and  interfered  and  made  it  so  un- 
comfortable for  him  (and  indeed  for  all  of  them) 
that  he  had  decided  to  go.  He  told  me  among 
other  things  that  since  the  residence  at  Camden 

Place  he  had  had  the  catering.  Clary  persuaded 
230 


EXILES    l.\    ENGLAND 

the  Emj  r       that  it  could  be  done  on  a  much  less 

I   i  it  mi  >rning  she  had  sent  I 
Duperre\    nd  had  ordered  him  to  reduce  expenst 
— 1<>  use  his  expression,  "acinq  francs  par  tete 
de  n;  meaning  ti »  five  francs  a  head. 

('i  the  «>ther  members  of  the  household  at 
Chislehurst  I  have  very  little  to  say.  Franceschini 
Pietri  was  a  Corsican,  very  devoted,  no  doubt, 
nephew  of  Pietri,  the  well-known  Roman  Prefect 
<>t  Pol  When  at  the  Tuileries  he  was  of  liti 

not<-,  as  he  was  scarcely  ever  seen.  Under  Priv  ite 
I  sup]  .  was  his  title,  but  as  a  matter 
ol  fact  he  worked  apart  in  a  small  room,  where 
the  Emperor's  hand-bell  could  call  him  at  any 
h<>ur.  He  was  t!  e  Emperor's  private  messenger, 
entirely  outside  politics.  In  the  general  break- 
up he  sprang  into  more  prominent  exist'-ncc,  and 
was  one  ot  those  sent  to  England  by  the  Emperor 
to  accompany  the  Prince,  with  and  subordinate  to 
Commandant  Duperre*.  At  Camden  Place,  he 
became  Private  Secretary  to  the   Empress,  and  at 

ent  still  retains  the  same  position.  I  shall 
have  occasion  to  speak  of  him  later  on  in  connec- 
tion with  the  Emperor's  death,  as  well  as  of 
Madame   Le   Breton. 

Mademoiselle    Lermina    was    daughter   of  a 
penniless   general,    as    was  the    wife    ol    Comte 
1      iry    (a    Mademoiselle    Marion).      The    Pmpr 
was  always  most  good  and  kind,  and  never  tailed 
to  hue  one  or  two  girls  as  lectrices,  and  married 


MY  MEMOIRS 

most  of  them  well.  Mademoiselle  Lermina  is 
still  with   her,   unmarried. 

Notwithstanding  the  narrow  strip  of  water 
that  lies  between  England  and  France,  one  cannot 
help  being  struck  by  the  difference  in  ideas,  habits 
and  customs  of  the  two  countries,  less  so  now 
than  when  I  first  came  to  live  here,  just  twenty- 
three  years  ago.  There  is  still  one  point,  how- 
ever, which  has  not  changed — the  immense 
preponderance  of  unmarried  women  in  England. 
At  the  French  Court  I  can  only — after  a  long 
search  in  the  depths  of  my  memory — record  two 
who  could  no  longer  claim  to  be  girls.  One  of 
them  lived  at  the  Tuileries  and  was  conspicuous 
by  her  connection  with  the  Emperor  on  his 
mother's  side.  Her  father  was  Great  Master  to  the 
Empress's  household,  her  brother  was  chamber- 
lain. They  occupied  a  suite  of  rooms  in  the 
Pavilion  Marsan,  the  part  overlooking  the  Rue 
de  Rivoli. 

I  refer  to  the  Countess  Stephanie  Tascher  de 

la  Pagerie.      She  was  a  Canoness  in  Bavaria,  and 

therefore  bore  the  title  of  Countess.    In  Germany, 

being    Canoness    gives    a    right     to    this    title. 

Countess  Stephanie  was  an  amiable  bluestocking, 

very  witty,   very  amusing,    and,   contrary  to  the 

general   rule  of  old  maids,  not  ill-natured.     She 

was  a  general  favourite  at  Court,  much  appreciated 

by    the    Emperor,    who    had    known    her    in    his 

younger  days  at  Arenenberg.     She  was  often  in 
232 


EXILES    IN    ENGLAND 

mand  at  the  Pavilion  de  Flore,  their  Majesties1 
petit s    ap/  Her    lively    conversai 

and  droll  ua\  '  I  her  life 

in  Germany  amused  th     Empn    -  i     .   ni 

The   second     "  femme    de    trente    ans" 
da       •   r  of  Comte       i        bianca.    I  have  nothing 
to  tell  of  her  except  that   I   knew  her  ver)    well. 
She   had  been  unfortunate   in  an  unrecij         I  d 
love.      1    knew  him  i  He   made  an   unhaj 

marri  She  thereafter  devoted  herself  entirely 

to  her  father.    She  became  his  right  hand  in  every 
w  ty,  acting  as  his  pri\  cretary  in  main-  affairs 

of  political  importance. 

M.  de  Casabianca,  a  dear  old  man,  a  Corsican 
Napoleonist  to  the  backbone,  honest  too,  and  not 
altogether  a  nonentity,  was  most  useful  in  difficult 
moments  when  an  intelligent  and  devoted  man 
was  required  to  play  a  risky  part,  or  in  a  financial 
crisis.  In  this  way  poor  old  Casabianca  was 
dotted  about  as  the  occasion  demanded.  At  the 
critical  moment  of  the  Coup  cC  Etat  he  occupied 
at  the  Rue  de  Rivoli  the  Ministere  des  Finances. 
Then,  at  the  proclamation  of  the  Empire  he  found 
himseit  S  taryol  State — when  it  was  necessary 
to  form  and  organize  the  new  Cabinet.  He  was 
also  member  of  the  Privy  Council  and,  lastly, 
senator  for  life.  Casabianca  was  a  very  intimate 
friend  of  my  father's,  who  was  able  to  render  him 
a  service  he  never  forgot,  by  obtaining  that  his 
son-in-law  should  be  sent  as  military  attach-:   to 

ni 


MY   MEMOIRS 

the  Embassy  at  Turin.  M.  de  Casablanca's 
daughter  was  young  and  pretty,  and  did  the 
honours  of  the  Embassy  when  required,  as  my 
father  was  there  alone,  my  mother  being  too 
delicate  to  undertake  the  duties  and  fatigues 
incumbent  on  the  wife  of  an  Ambassador. 

Casabianca  was  a  true  friend,  and  was  able  to 
prove  himself  so  many  times.  No  one  who  has 
not  lived  at  Court  would  easily  realize  the  great 
jealousies  which  invariably  exist.  The  influence 
and  power  of  certain  members  of  the  household, 
who  have  the  great  advantage  at  Court  that  a 
lady's-maid  has  in  private  life,  in  possessing  the 
ear  of  the  mistress,  are  as  a  rule  very  antagonistic 
to  family.  The  influence  of  the  entourage  of 
which  I  speak  may  have  been  more  felt  at  the 
French  Court,  and  perhaps  existed  to  a  greater 
extent,  as  at  the  Tuileries  there  was  no  immediate 
family. 

Dr.  Corvisart  was  one  of  the  doctors  at 
Chislehurst  called  par  quartier.  They  were  four 
in  number,  and  took  service  in  turns  under  Dr. 
Conneau. 

The  Duke  de  Bassano,  who  was  Grand 
Chamberlain  at  Court,  was  only  in  attendance  at 
Camden  Place  on  occasions  of  official  receptions 
or  ceremonies,  but  always  held  himself  in  readiness 
to  obey  the  Empress's  commands.  I  am  now 
speaking  of  the  time  during  which  the  Emperor 
was  a  prisoner  at  Wilhelmshohe. 
234 


EXILES    !\    ENGLAND 

In  the  month  of  December  the  Empress  left 
England  and,  travelling  as 

1   i  short  v  1         rial  pri 

The     Prin         Imperial     was     most     anxious    to 

that  he  had 
not  his  kuhcr  since   befon    S    Ian,   tnd  en- 

treated her  to  allow  him  to  lm>  to  the  Emperor. 
Father  and  son  were  wrapped  up  in  each  other. 
Th-  the  last  few  months  had  brought 

them  still  more  closely  together.  I  he  poor  little 
Prince   was,    I    heard,   really   heart-broken  at  the 

:tion  of  his  wish  .t  the  Empn  ss,  who   no 

ibt    had   her  .    >ns,    was  determined   in 

refusal. 

I  may  say  here   that,  before  the  fall  of  Metz, 
I  thinking  he  could   treat  advantageously 

with  Prince  Frederick  Charles,  sent  an  emissary — 
no  other  than  General  Bourbaki — to  Chislehurst, 
asking    the    Empress    I  t    lor   a   blanc  St 

authorizing  him  to  treat  in  the  name  of  the  Regent 
and  put  the  Prince  Imperial  on  the  throne  of 
France.  The  whole  incident  is,  I  believe,  well 
known.  General  Bourbaki  arrived  at  Camden 
Place  one  afternoon,  had  a  prolonged  interview 
with  the  Empress,  and  returned  to  Bazaine  with 
an  indignant  refusal.  Many  were  the  comments, 
as  you  may  imagine,  among  the  entourage  and  the 
members  of  the  family  then  in  England.  What 
was  her  reason  f<  lining  Bazaine's offer  ?     No 

one  can  say  with  certainty — at  all  events  I  cannot. 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Would  Bazaine  have  been  Regent  ?  The  Prince 
was  only  fifteen.  The  capitulation  of  Metz 
followed,  August  27.  Bourbaki  had  been  able 
to  leave  Metz  through  the  Prussian  lines  with  a 
sauf  conduit  delivered  by  Prince  Frederick  Charles 
himself. 

In  an  ordinary  time  it  would  have  been 
without  doubt  a  dangerous,  reprehensible  and 
unprecedented  act  to  have  abdicated  her  powers 
as  Regent  into  the  hands  of  Bazaine  by  giving 
him  the  "signature  in  blank"  he  required,  but 
here  the  position  was  desperate.  The  honour  of 
France,  the  Empire,  the  throne,  were  in  the 
balance.  To  hesitate  was  certain  ruin,  for  France, 
for  the  Emperor,  for  the  Prince  Imperial.  Had 
a  treaty  been  signed  by  Bazaine  and  Prince 
Frederick  Charles,  it  would  probably  not  have 
involved  so  great  an  indemnity  as  the  loss  of  two 
Provinces  and  five  thousand  millions  of  francs, 
but  it  would  have  meant  the  abdication  of  the 
Emperor  and  the  loss  of  the  Regency  in  favour  of 
Bazaine. 

Perhaps  the  Empress's  mistrust  of  Bazaine 
might  have  been  caused  in  part  by  the  remem- 
brance of  the  treachery  of  General  Trochu,  in 
whom  she  had  so  recently  blindly  believed. 
Perhaps  the  trials  she  had  gone  through  had 
left  her  without  nerve  for  so  daring  an  act — or 
was  it  Fate  ? 

On  leaving  Metz,  Bazaine  proceeded  to  Wil- 
236 


EXILES    l.\    ENGLAND 

L'-'ir.-:   >he,  where  he  drew  up,  in  conjunction  with 
the  Emj  ts  of  the 

war.     And  the         its  which  tulle  His  fall 

and   that   ol    his   dynasty,  ]  imed  dur         the 

insLir:  a  on  the  4th  •  i  September  in  Paris, 
and  again  l>y  the  National  Assembly  sitting  at 
.x  the  tirst  days  <>i  March  1871.  It  was 
whispered  that  they  discussed  the  possibility  of  a 

torati  Every   one    knows    that,    later   on, 

Marshal  Bazaine  v.  I  a  traitor,  tried  and 

condemn  li  faithful  to  the    allegiance 

sworn  to  his  i  ign  constitutes  a   traitor,  then 

rtainl)  Bazaine  was  one.  I  cannot  admit  that 
he  was  traitor  to  Fram  J  Ie  would  undoubtedly 
have  restored  the  Empire  had  he  been  allowed, 
and  the  world  would  not  have  witnessed  the 
gradual  .  and  downfall  of  a  great  kingdom. 

How  great  is  the  fall  of  France  those  alone  can 

1  who,  like  myself,  lived  on  the  steps  of  an 
Empire's  throne  and  have  now,  a  voluntary  exile, 
watched  tor  thirty  years  on  England's  shores  the 
litical  and  religious  decline  oi  my  country. 
The  Emperor  was  an  Angloman — he  loved  and 
admired  the  English  ;  he  never  forgot  Prince 
Louis  Napoleon  and  the  cordial  reception  given 
to  the  "inlawed  l'rince  who  sought  refuge  in  this 
country.  The  Emperor  dreamt  of  an  English 
alliance.  Russia  paid  the  penalty.  We  knew 
the  English  heroes  in  the  Crimea  who  bravely 
fought  by  our  side;    we  knew  some   of  the    pretty 

-37 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Englishwomen  who  flirted  at  Compiegne  ;  but  we 
had  no  experience  in  those  halcyon  days  of  a 
Dreyfus !  of  insults  heaped  upon  us  by  the 
English  Press,  of  the  injurious  and  hostile 
language  of  English  statesmen,  of  the  attacks  on 
the  French  Army,  qualifying  our  generals  as 
dishonest,  questioning  the  integrity  of  our  magis- 
trates and  their  power  to  render  justice.  For 
such  a  state  of  things  to  be  possible,  how  de- 
graded we  must  have  become !  Poor  France  ! 
Yet  the  Empire,  or  a  monarchy  that  would 
save  us,  seems  as  far  away  as  it  was  thirty  years 
ago. 

In  this  year,  1871,  I  received  a  telegram 
announcing  the  unexpected  death  of  M.  de 
Chassiron. 

Mr.  Garden,  whom  I  have  already  mentioned, 
was  unceasing  in  his  attentions  and  his  endeavours 
to  make  our  life  less  sombre.  He  was  also 
indefatigable  in  the  service  of  the  Empress. 
Going  up  and  down  from  Chislehurst  to  London 
with  dispatches  in  cipher,  sometimes  as  late  as 
twelve  o'clock,  he  would  take  our  messages  to 
Charing  Cross.  He  planned  parties  to  Rich- 
mond, drove  us  to  a  fish  dinner  at  Greenwich,  and 
the  first  week  in  December  persuaded  my  father 
to  pay  him  a  four  days'  visit  at  Redisham,  his 
place  in  Suffolk,  for  the  covert  shooting.  He 
secured  a  saloon  carriage  and  we  went  down — a 

party   of  seven — I   was  the  only   woman.     The 
238  ' 


EXILES    IX    ENGLAND 

shooters  were  the  well-known  "  Brab,"1  the 
handsomest  Englishman  1  h  id  seen  ;  Tommy 
Trafford,  so  renowned  for  his  painted  fai  . 
envied  as  a  prot  ol  the  Prince  oi  Wales; 
Percy  Barker,  who  was  never  sober,  but  a  kind. 
good-hearted  fellow;  and  Captain  Powell,  who 
had  been  through  the  Indian  Mutiny  and  told 
funny  ;  of  shooting  into  moving  bushes  and 

old  women  rolling  out.      How   strange  their  talk, 
their  manners,  their  ideas,  all  seemed  to  me,  fr 
from  the  Court  of  the  Tuileries  ! 

We  arrived  .it  Redisham  about  six  o'clock. 
Snow  lay  heavily  on  the  ground  ;  the  cold  was 
intense-  that  fatal  winter  of  1870-1,  and  I  thought 
I  had  never  felt  SO  cold  a  house.  Stone  outer 
hall,  .stone  inner  hall,  stone   staircase,  stone    land- 

with  only  one  or  two  small  rugs.  It  sent  a 
chill  to  the  heart.  Bier  fires  in  the  drawing-rooms 
that  scorched  without  warming  you,  and,  it  you 
moved  away,  fearful  draughts  from  under  every 
door  and  window  ;  hare  furniture  against  bare 
walls — not  a  cushion  to  be  seen,  not  a  flower,  not 
a  plant.  It  all  looked  SO  cold  and  miserable. 
Plenty  of  smoke,  however,  from  fires  and  men  ; 
the\-  smoked  all  over  the  house.  Miss  Garden 
said  when  she  returned  alter  our  visit  that  the 
curtains  and  furniture  were  an  e  -  nee  ol  smoke, 
and  had  to  be  put  out  on  the  lawn  tor  a  week 
before  she  could  again  use  them  ! 

1  Major-General  J.  P.  l'.rabazon,  C.B.,  C.V  <  ». 

239 


MY  MEMOIRS 

Notwithstanding  the  cold,  we  had  a  very 
pleasant  week.  All  the  men  were  full  of  fun, 
and  played  practical  jokes  on  each  other.  One 
morning,  about  two  o'clock,  I  heard  shouts  of 
laughter,  and,  peeping  out  of  my  door,  saw  the 
unfortunate  Percy  Barker  being  rolled  down- 
stairs in  a  feather  bed .  He  had  established 
himself  on  the  floor  in  Brab's  room,  who  objected 
to  keeping  him,  the  loud  snoring  preventing  his 
sleeping. 

I  liked  Brab  best  of  all  the  guests.  He  was 
more  like  what  I  was  accustomed  to.  The  very 
first  evening  at  dinner,  I  remarked  that  he  wore 
his  hair  parted  in  the  middle,  a  thing  I  particularly 
dislike.  It  gives  a  man  such  an  effeminate  look. 
Turning  to  him,  I  said  something  of  the  kind  in  a 
low  voice.  To  my  horror  he  called  one  of  the 
men-servants  and  bade  him  fetch  a  comb  ;  then 
and  there  at  table,  the  man  holding  a  mirror,  he 
parted  his  hair  at  the  side,  and  I  never  saw  it 
parted  in  the  middle  again,  although  we  remained 
great  friends  and  often  met  in  London  till,  with 
the  courage  and  pluck  which  characterized  him,  he 
volunteered  for  the  Ashanti  war,  and  the  smartest 
soldier  ever  in  the  Guards  re-entered  the  Army  as 
a  trooper,  and  left  Waterloo  with  his  buttonhole 
and  lavender  kid  gloves  to  join  his  regiment,  amid 
the  cheers  of  his  numerous  friends,  about  May  or 
June  1873. 

How  sad  our  days,  and  sadder  still  our  nights. 
240 


EXILES    IX    ENGLAND 

One  of  our  greatest  trials,  in  the  absence  ol  any  reli- 
able new  tl  houting  in  the  streets  ;  the  call- 
ing out  by  newspaper  men  and  b  >ys  ol  m<  >st  terrible 
battles — massacres — horrors  of  the  si-  We 
were  so  absolutely  unaccustomed  to  anything  • 
the  kind  that  we  believed  all  we  heard.  1  scarcely 
know  what  would  have  become  of  us  during  those 
dreadful  months  had  it  not  been  for  the  friendship 
of  Lord  Granvill  We  had  not  yet  left  Half- 
Mo  n  Street  My  sister  came  up  constantly  to 
her  rooms  at  Fleming's,  and  often  alter  leaving 
the  I  louse  at  twelve  or  one  o'clock  at  night,  Lord 
Granville,  who  was  then  Foreign  Secretary,  would 
come  with  the  latest  information  he  could  obtain. 
One  evening  I  remember  well.  The  shouting  had 
been  more  distracting  than  usual,  when  suddenly 
we  heard  a  babel  of  thundering  voices,  "  The  King 
of  Prussia  killed  ! "  Oh,  what  a  relief!  A  thrill 
of  joy  went  through  me.  The  Emperor  prisoner, 
the  King  dead,  surely  the  war  was  ended!  I 
never  took  time  to  retlect.  Of  course  my  hope 
was  shattered. 

Mrs.  Thomson  Hankey,  whose  husband  was 
at  one  time  under-governor  of  the  Bank  oi 
England,  had  just  come  in.  She  had  also  heard 
tin:  iews.  My  delight  shocked  her  immensely. 
She  said  reprovingly,  "My  dear,  you  forget  poor 
Queen  Augusta  and  her  grief."  Indeed,  I  had! 
In  those  hours  I  had  no  thought  for  any  grief  but 
our  own,    but,  alas!    no  grief  was   needed.      Lord 


MY  MEMOIRS 

• 

Granville  soon  arrived  and  dispelled  my  short- 
lived joy.  Some  personage  had  been  killed  (I 
cannot  call  to  mind  who  it  was),  a  general,  I  think, 
and  the  war  would  go  on,  the  dreadful  war,  without 
suffering  even  a  check. 

And  day  followed  day,  each  more  weary 
than  the  last,  with  its  cold,  its  damp,  its  dense 
black  fogs.  Would  the  sun  never  shine  for  us 
again  ? 

At  the  beginning  of  January  I  left  Cromwell 
Road,  and  took  with  Guy  a  tiny  but  pretty  house 
in  Walton  Place,  belonging  to  Ginger  Durant. 
He  was  kindness  itself,  left  me  two  servants,  his 
plate  and  linen.  I  now  had  news  more  frequently 
from  Jerome,  sent  through  the  Prussian  lines. 
He  was  still  at  Courbevoie.  He  had  been  very 
ill.  To  add  to  all  the  rest,  small-pox  broke  out 
among  them.  Though  vaccinated,  he  contracted 
the  disease,  which  he  had  more  slightly  than 
others,  and  it  very  fortunately  left  no  marks.  As 
soon  as  peace  was  signed  he  came  to  England. 

His  mother  was  most  anxious.  She  had  no 
means  of  communicating  with  her  son,  and  only 
received  what  little  news  I  could  send  her. 

My  uncle  had  married  a  Miss  Williams,  a 
Virginian  heiress.  Jerome  and  I  had  known  each 
other  since  our  earliest  infancy,  but  I  lost  sight  of 
him  for  many  years,  as  he  never  came  to  France 
till  just  before  the  Crimean  War.  He  was  an 
only  child  till  he  was  twenty-one,  when  a  brother 
242 


EXILES    IN    ENGLAND 

was  I  »rn.  They  were  the  only  two  children  of 
the  Paterson  branch  of  the  fami 

My  aunt    was  always  known   to  her  husband 

and  children  as  "  Miss  Susan,"  and  SO  we  all 
called  her— a  habit  contracted,  1  imagine,  from 
her  old  i.  servants,  who  had    been  with  her 

from  her  birth. 

After  the  war,  [e*rdme  came  to  London  for 
sonic  weeks.  He  told  us  of  the  hardships  and 
privations  of  the  sie  He  brought  me  a  piece 

of  the  hard  black  bread  the  officers  and  men  had 
to  eat.  His  description  was  most  amusing  of  the 
luxury  and  treat  it  was  t<>  eat  a  rat  from  the 
-utters  or  from  the  spout  .  "The)  are  far  more 
delicate,"  la:  said,  "  than  young  chickens."  Our 
St.  Bernard  dogs  had  been  eaten,  taken  from  the 
Avenue  Montaigne,  when  it  was  turned  into  a 
hospital   for   the    wounded. 

During  the  siege  a  rat  cost  2  francs,  a  rabbit 
t  50  francs,  a  cat  1 5  francs,  a  turkey  1 50 
francs,  each  egg,  fresh  (:>)  5  francs.  Every 
animal  in  the  Jardin  d'Acclimation  was  bought 
and  eaten.  The  prices  paid  were  fabulous.  A 
wild  boar  1 ,000  francs,  a  woll  500  francs,  a  1 
800  francs.  All  the  peacocks  were  b<  »ught  between 
the  well-known  author  Arsene  Houssaye  and  the 
eminent  surgeon  Ricord.  1  wonder  if  peacocks 
are  a  great  delicacy  or  if  they  ar<  id  and  easily 
dig<  sted. 

Jerome  sailed  for  America  some  time  early  in 

Q  - 


MY  MEMOIRS 

March,  and  intended  proceeding  to  Baltimore  to 
join  his  mother  and  brother.  When  at  New 
York  he  was  waylaid  by  the  two  brothers  of  a 
Mrs.  Newbolt  Edgar,  a  very  rich  young  American 
widow,  who  had  lived  for  a  long  time  in  Paris, 
and  to  whom  he  had,  no  doubt,  paid  a  certain 
amount  of  attention.  She  had  taken  advantage 
of  this,  and  written  several  letters  through  the 
medium  of  some  Prussian  officer.  Her  brothers 
chose  to  consider  her  entitled  to  become  Princess 
Jerome  Bonaparte  (but  Jerome  always  declined 
the  title),  and  through  the  intervention  of  her 
brothers  she  became  Mrs.   Bonaparte. 

Jerome  announced  his  engagement  with  these 
few  details  in  a  letter  addressed  to  Achille.  I 
fear  the  marriage  was  not  a  very  happy  one. 
The  last  years  of  his  life,  I  believe,  they  lived  a 
good  deal  apart.  I  understand  that  Monseigneur 
Bauer,  and  his  wish  to  make  a  convert,  was  not 
unconnected  with  this  sad  affair.  His  influence 
weighed  heavily  in  the  balance. 

I  should  have  said,  but  have  neglected  to  do 
so,  that  after  Sedan  the  Emperor  Napoleon  could 
have  treated  directly  with  the  Emperor  William. 
Bismarck,  in  an  interview  which  he  sought,  said 
to  the  Emperor  these  words :  "  Sire,  do  you 
surrender  your  own  sword,  or  the  sword  of 
France  ? "  Without  doubt,  he  expected  the 
Emperor  to  reply,  "  The  sword  of  France."     His 

answer    was,    "  I    am   prisoner    of  the    King   of 

244 


EXILES    l\    ENGLAND 

Prussia.      You   must   treat    with    the    temporary 

I  .    .  i  rnment   in    Paris." 

The  armistice  was  concluded  on  January  26, 
ami  signed  between   Bismarck  ami  Jules   Favre. 

I  am  puzzling  my  poor  brain  about  the 
precise  date  of  the  Emperor's  release  from 
Wilhelmshohe.1     Was   it    alter   the    signature   of 

O 

the  armistice  in  January,  or  a  little  later  when 
the  treaty  of  peace  was  signed?  However,  it 
matters   littl 

I  remember  the  meeting  and  reception  at 
Dover.  II'-  had  -Town  old,  grey  and  worn.  I 
remember  the  arrival  in  London  and  the  reception 
and  loud  cheering  of  all  the  French  Napoleonists 
then  in  England.  I  remember  the  home-coming 
to  Chislehurst — a  home-coming  so  sad  in  a 
stranger-land  and  last  of  all,  I  remember  our 
indignation,  that  knew  no  bounds,  when,  a  few 
days  later,  the  Emperor  went  to  Windsor  by  the 
Queen's  invitation,  accompanied  by  the  Duke  de 
Bassano  and  the  officers  of  his  suite,  and  found 
that  only  a  small  pony  carriage  had  been  sent 
to  meet  him  all  that  was  thought  necessary  for 
a  fallen  sovereign  ;  yet  very  different  was  the 
reception  given  the  Queen  of  Spain  at  the 
1  rench  Court.  The  Empress  was  loud  in  ex 
pressing  her  outraged  feelings.  The  Emperor 
alone  was  smiling  and  calm,  and  tried  to  stem 
the  torrent  of  words.      Lord   Granville  ami    Mr. 

1    M 

245 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Gladstone  were,  I  know,  horrified  when  they 
heard  of  the  blunder.  I  think,  but  it  is  so  long 
ago  I  cannot  be  sure,  that  an  apology  was  sent 
to  his  Majesty,  blaming  some  official  of  the 
Court  etiquette  and  protocol  for  the  tactless 
incivility. 

Speaking  of  Mr.  Gladstone  reminds  me  of  the 
afternoon  when  a  number  of  people  had  come  to 
the  Empress's  tea,  and  were  sitting  round  her 
traditional  hot  brioche.  The  last  comer,  Prince 
Lucien  Bonaparte,  after  some  little  time  listening 
and  talking,  asked  the  Empress  in  a  loud  (apart) 
whisper  who  was  the  gentleman  talking  to  the 
Emperor  ?  On  being  told  it  was  Mr.  Gladstone, 
he  said,  "  Mais  comment  done ! "  and  went  on,  "  I 
didn't  know  a  Liberal  could  be  a  true  gentleman." 

We  heard  from  the  Empress  that  Marlborough 
House  was  "closed  for  repairs,"  but  the  Prince 
and  Princess  of  Wales  much  wished  to  come  to 
town  for  a  few  weeks.  They  had  thought  they 
could  have  a  suite  of  apartments  at  Buckingham 
Palace.  For  some  reason  the  Queen  did  not  care 
to  consent  to  this  arrangement,  and  the  Prince 
accepted  the  Duke  of  Sutherland's  offer  of  Stafford 
House.  My  sister  wished  to  see  the  Princess  or 
write  her  name,  and  we  went  together.  The 
Princess  was  out,  and  while  Anna  was  writing  I 
looked  round.  It  seemed  so  strange  to  see  a 
house  lent  to  the  Prince  and  Princess  of  Wales 
only  partly  prepared  for  their  occupation,  half- 
246 


EXILES    I\    ENGLAND 

smothered  in  brown  holland,  as  one  is  accustomed 
to  have  one's  own  house  when  out  ol  town  and 
only  going  up  en  camp  valant. 

We  wei  ry  frequently   at  Camden    Place; 

some  one  of  us  might  always  be  seen  travelling 
on  the  line  up  or  down.  I  recall  to  mind  one 
afternoon  I  found  the  Emperor  alone  in  the 
drawing-room  they  generally  lived  in,  a  small 
table  in  front  of  him,  and  a  patience  laid  out  "  La 
G  rbe,"  his  favourite  patien  He  greeted  me 
with  a  smile  and  said,  "  Je  fais  une  reussite."  \\  e 
played  the  patience  together  alas!  1  forget  for 
what  success  it  was  played,  or  il  it  was  a  success. 
I  stayed  to  tea.  The  Empress  came  in  from  her 
drive,  charming  and  gay-  charming  as  she  alone 
can    be    when    she   choosi  My    sister   and    the 

Princess  Metternich  came  in.  They  had  had  an 
adventure.  On  arriving  at  Charing  Cross  they 
found  that  neither  of  them  had  any  money.  They 
lost  one  train  while  arguing  at  the  ticket  office, 
the  man  refusing  to  trust  them.  They  went  to 
the  station  master,  who  at  last  succeeded  in 
tting  them  tickets  on  condition  they  would 
deposit  a  jewel  till  their  return.  The  Princess 
Metternich  took  off  a  valuable  bracelet  and 
handed  it  in  at  the  office,  in  exchange  for  which 
two  return  tickets  to  Chislehurst  were  delivered 
to  her.  At  Camden  Place  she  borrowed  a 
sovereign  and  redeemed  her  bracelet  on  her 
return  to   London. 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Princess  Metternich  was  celebrated  for  all 
sorts  of  extraordinary  experiences  during  her  stay 
in  England.  She  made  an  excursion  to  Gravesend 
with  two  or  three  men,  and  Mr.  Garden  told  me 
that  she  insisted  on  buying  shrimps  from  a  woman 
who  passed  the  carriage,  and  spreading  out  her 
handkerchief,  she  proceeded  to  eat  them,  not- 
withstanding his  protesting  that  it  was  a  thing 
unheard  of  in  one  of  her  rank  and  position.  But 
she  only  laughed.  She  was  always  defiant  of 
convention.  He  took  her  to  the  Alhambra  (the 
Alhambra  was  not  then  as  it  is  now).  He 
described  himself  as  feeling  quite  hot  when  she 
said  to  him  in  a  very  loud  voice,  speaking  of  a 
man  he  had  just  introduced,  "  Ah  !  your  friend  is 
as  familiar  as  a  flea  !  " 


248 


PRINCESS    CAKOI.INK 


CHAPTER    X 

DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    III 

A  trip  to  Italy— My    econd  marriage — Redisham — Return  to 
Paris     Effects  of  siege  and  Commune — The  i  r — 

The    Emperor's    illness — His    death — Sir    William     Gull's 
opinion — Mme.   Rouher's   experiment — Palmistry 

After  the  Commune  my  father  and  mother 
determined  to  return  to  France.  The  Princess 
to  go  to  Mouchy  with  my  sister,  who  had 
left  England  some  few  days  earlier.  Mr.  Garden 
and  one  or  two  friends  accompanied  them  to 
Dover,  where  they  proposed  taking  the  night 
boat  to  Calais.  How  it  happened  that  the 
Princess  and  the  lady  who  was  always  in  attend- 
ance on  her  got  separated  from  the  rest  of  the 
party,  never  seemed  clear  ;  but  in  the  confusion 
and  fear  of  missing  the  boat  she  was  hurried  on 
board,  and  it  was  not  till  an  hour  had  elapsed 
and  they  asked  if  the  boat  was  nearing  Calais, 
that  the  Princess  discovered  that  she  was  on  the 
Ostend  boat  on  her  way  to  Belgium!  It  wa 
terrible  shock  to  her  in  her  delicate  state  o{ 
health,  with  no  lup-gfap-e.  I1()  maid  and  Madame 
Dutour,   the   lad)'   with   her,  a   very   bad   sailor,  a 


MY   MEMOIRS 

very  rough  sea,  and  the  prospect  of  five  hours' 
passage  instead  of  an  hour  and  twenty  minutes. 
The  Due  de  Mouchy  was  waiting  for  her  at 
Creil,  where  you  change  on  the  line  du  Nord  for 
Beauvois  and  Mouchy.  On  arriving  at  Ostend 
the  Princess  could  not  be  persuaded  to  rest. 
She  telegraphed  her  mishap,  and  took  the  first 
available  train.  Mouchy  said  that  she  was  almost 
hysterical  when  she  reached  Creil,  and  nothing 
could  persuade  her  it  was  not  a  practical  joke 
played  on  her  by  the  English  locals,  or  by  Mr. 
Garden  and  his  friends. 

At  the  end  of  March  I  came  to  Redisham  for 
a  short  visit,  and  then  went  over  to  Calais  and 
Brussels,  where  I  stayed  a  few  days  before  pro- 
ceeding to  Strasbourg.  I  very  much  wished  to 
go  to  Meaux  and  see  if  I  had  anything  left — I 
should  rather  say  if  any  of  my  things  had  been 
saved.  I  made  my  way  to  Reims,  leaving  Guy, 
his  governess,  and  the  servants  there.  I  went 
on  with  Mr.  Garden,  who  had  kindly  undertaken 
to  accompany  me.  Our  purpose  was  to  find  the 
solicitor  who  had  had  my  business  in  charge 
during  my  absence.  After  many  inquiries,  we 
at  last  succeeded  in  getting  the  address  of  his 
private  residence,  and  there  we  found  him  in  his 
study,  seated  in  one  of  my  best  large  armchair 
lounges.  He  had  not  expected  to  see  me.  He 
explained  in  rather  a  confused  and  embarrassed 
way  that  he  had  taken  some  of  my  property  as  a 
250 


DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    III 

means  of  saving  it  from  the  Prussians  and  the 
francs-tireurs,  who  really  did  as  much  damaere  as 
the     Prus  ians    tl.  it"    not    more.       1  lis 

attitude,  so  different  from  what  it  had  been  a 
t<w  m  nths  back,  was  the  truest  sign  of  the 
tim<  It    positively    smelt    of    the    Commune. 

He  d   me  a   cup   of  broth   and  a   biscuit — 

which  notwithstanding  his  familiar  manner,  being 
very    weary,    I    might    have   accepted    had    t! 

inything  brought  for  Mr.  Garden,  but  the 
hospitality  did  not  reach  to  a  brandy  and  s 
or  even  a  glass  of  sherry  ;  so  after  some  in- 
structions and  the  request  that  what  remained 
of  my  property  should  be  sold,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  a  few  things  which  I  ordered  to  be 
sent  to  England,  we  took  our  departure  to  the 
hotel  for  a  little  refreshment  before  taking  the 
late  train  back  to  Reims.  Mr.  Garden  was 
amused.  I  felt  ill  and  thoroughly  disgusted  ; 
the  change  was  so  great.  Was  it  France  ? 
And  who  was  I?  Oh,  my  pride,  what  a  tali! 
Since  then  the  falls  have  been  so  countless — I 
accept   them   as   my   normal   state. 

(  )n  reaching  Reims,  where  I  rested  for  a  few 
days,  we  planned  a  trip  to  Italy:  1  asked  two  old 
friends  to  join  me,  and,  travelling  leisurely  through 

many,  we  found  ourselves  one  bright  morning 
at  Verona.  We  were  quite  a  small  caravan,  and 
the  amount  of  luggage  with  which  I  had  left 
England    was   so  great,  that    we    dropped    on  our 

-5' 


MY   MEMOIRS 

way  here  a  large  trunk,  there  a  portmanteau,  and 
lastly  a  cause  with  bed-linen,  pillows,  cushions 
and  chamois  leather  sheets,  so  that  for  the  first 
time  since  I  could  remember  I  was  travelling 
without  what  I  considered  in  those  days  the 
necessaries  of  life  when  going  through  foreign 
countries — more  especially  Germany — as  I  had 
had  some  experience  of  the  hotels  in  different 
German  towns. 

At  Verona  we  made  a  short  stay.  I  was 
anxious  to  see  the  tomb  of  Romeo  and  Juliet.  I 
do  not  know  what  I  had  thought  and  dreamt  of — 
certainly  not  what  I  saw.  We  drove  some  dis- 
tance out  of  Verona,  and  in  an  uncared-for  bit  of 
ground  or  garden  was  a  grave,  the  primitive  sim- 
plicity of  which  seemed  to  carry  away  a  world  of 
illusions. 

My  principal  object  in  wishing  to  visit  Italy 
again  was  to  go  to  Naples — to  Venice.  I  had 
spent  winters  at  Genoa,  Florence,  Milan  and 
Turin — I  had  posted  from  Genoa  to  Florence 
among  groves  of  olive  and  orange  trees — I  had 
changed  horses  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning  at 
what  might  have  been  an  opera  comique  decora- 
tion. I  had  been  across  the  Apennines  on  the 
most  glorious  of  Italian  nights  with  a  moon 
brighter  than  England's  sun.  I  had  crossed  the 
Mont  Cenis  in  a  sleigh,  deep  in  snow,  rushing 
down  to  catch  the  train  at  St.  Jean  de  Maurienne. 

But  I  had  never  seen  Naples !  This  was  my 
252 


DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    III 

ambition  !     In  1861  1  v  1  .1-  to 

k  the  ;  r  it'  I  might  n  to  Naples     he 

"  Rem  tin  at  Turin  !  '      In  a  day  or 
I  tter  tellin  .  stion 

my  visit  ha  n  submitted  tu  the  (tali  in  ( i  >vern- 

menl      rid   the         nmunication  in  ver  was  to 

thi  :        ild  be  at  Naples  for  forty-eight 

hours   und<  1         N         ditan 

police.      Now,  with  an  English  p  rt,  my  wish 

could  I  VV  :it  ten  days  at   Venice 

at  Danielli's  and  left  for  Trieste;  there  we  took 
an  Austrian  Lloyd,  and,  after  touching  at  Ancona, 
we  landed  at  Brindisi  and  went  immediately  on 
to    Na]  The    Adriatic    is    the    only    sea    on 

which  I  have  ne\  I  en  ill.  The  weather  was 
pe  it    was    th  I   of    May.      Naples    de- 

':  me.      I   loved   the  noise,  the  joyous  bells, 
the    songs  of  the    lazzaroni,   the    blue    sky,    the 
—  I   loved  even  the  dirt  and  the  heat 
and  the  1  irs.      I   loved  everything  and  every- 

body.     After    the    darkness    and    the    misery 
the  past  months,  it  seemed  once  again  a  pleasure 
to   live   and   feel   the  sun   shine    on    you.      Each 
night  a  swi  utle  rain  cooled  the  atmosphere 

and  enabled  us  to  spend  our  days  in  excursions 
without    feeling  the    heat    too  We   went 

to    Portici,    my    grandfather's    preferred    country 
idence ;   we   went   to   '      itellamare  and  sat  for 
a  moment   in   the    •  )       n's    boudoir,    all   capo  di 
monti  china.     We  went  to  Vesuvius,  to  Pompeii; 

-53 


MY  MEMOIRS 

we  went  up  the  Monte  Nuovo.  Three  days  in 
succession  we  just  missed  the  train  to  Sorrento. 
We  saw  the  train  still  there,  we  heard  the  whistle 
— we  had  plenty  of  time  had  we  not  been 
penned  in  like  sheep.  We  never  caught  the 
train,  and  so  we  left  without  seeing  Sorrento, 
Mr.  Garden  very  angry,  and  using  ugly  English 
language  and  swearing  he  was  thankful  he  was 
an   Englishman. 

I  was  so  sorry  to  leave  Naples.  We  travelled 
back  through  Germany  and  stayed  at  Munich,  at 
Stuttgart,  at  Ulm.  Prince  Hohenzollern,  to  whom 
I  wrote,  gave  us  some  permissions  for  fishing, 
and  we  spent  days  and  weeks  whipping  the 
streams  and  pools  for  trout.  It  was  very  amusing 
and  exciting  to  me,  as  it  was  my  first  experience 
of  anything  of  the  kind.  I  remember  catching  a 
trout  and  a  grayling  on  my  line  at  the  same  time. 
I  managed  to  land  them  after  a  feverish  struggle 
on  both  sides,  I  at  one  end,  the  fish  at  the  other. 
I  did  not  feel  quite  certain  which  of  us  would  land 
the  other. 

We  got  back  to  England  some  time  in  Sep- 
tember, after  making  a  stay  at  Aix-la-Chapelle 
and  Brussels.  Everything  at  Camden  Place  was 
in  the  statu  quo  I  had  left  it.  I  went  to  report 
my  return  and  to  obtain  his  Majesty's  consent  to 
my  marriage  with  Mr.  Garden.  This  consent  he 
readily  gave  in  writing,  which  I  have  preserved. 


254 


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FACSIMILE    OF    LETTER    FROM    THE    EMPEROR    NAPOLEON    III.    TO 

PRINCESS    CAROLINE. 


DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    III 

My  dear  Nn    i . 

I    have   no  reas<  >n  whate\  er  to  • 
your  marriage,  it  it  is  tu  make  your  happiness, 
and  I   pray  that  it  may  do  Receive  the  ex- 

pression of  my  -ocd  will. 

\.\1  01  EON. 

The  Prince  (my  father)  and  my  younj 
brother  came  over  from  France,  and  we  took  rooms 
at  the  Pulteney  Hi  tel,  in  Albemarle  Street,  where 
we  remained  tor  a  few  weeks,  afterwards  moving 
to  the  Alexandra.  And  one  fine  morning  I  was 
married  bv  special  licence  at  St.  Peter's,  Eaton 
Square,  sans  tambotirs  ni  trompette.  One  in- 
cident occurred.  I  had  wished  to  have  a  double 
wedding-ring".  The  Princess  Mathilde  always  v. 
the  only  one  I  had  ever  seen.  One  was  ordered 
at  Hancock's,  the  old  jewellers,  who  were  often  in 
Paris  and  whom  I  had  knownforman)  years.  When 
the  moment  in  the  ceremony  arrived,  the  clergy- 
man vainly  endeavoured  to  put  on  the  ring,  not 
knowing  that  it  was  made  for  the  little  finger. 
On  that  finger  I  have  always  worn  it.  I  heard  it 
caused  the  Suffolk  yokels  to  question  the  validity 
of  my  marriage,  which  greatly  amused  me.  We 
went  back  to  the  hotel  to  a  big  luncheon,  and 
intended  taking  the  afternoon  train  to  Redisham. 
By  this  tim<  1  was  feeling  dreadfully  ill — morally 
and  physically.  The  prospe<  t  of  a  country  life  in 
England  was  before  me.      But  the  die  was  cast, 

25s 


MY  MEMOIRS 

and   I   determined  to  face  the  future  bravely — 
what  a  future  ! ! 

We  missed  the  train  and  took  a  special  from 
Ipswich,  as  the  eight  o'clock  train  from  London 
went  no  further.  The  officials  omitted  to  telegraph 
along  the  line  to  expect  a  special.  From  Ipswich 
to  Beccles  we  stopped  at  every  station,  and  the 
guard  and  men  opened  and  shut  each  gate.  We 
could  not  afford  to  do  as  Lord  Dudley  did  some 
years  later  when  he  had  Benacre.  For  him  they 
put  steam  on  and  never  stopped,  smashing  every 
gate  they  went  through  all  along  the  line.  It  was 
late  at  night  when  I  at  last  reached  my  future 
home. 

Now,  my  friends  and  my  foes — whoever 
travels  thus  far  with  me  on  my  journey — I  ask 
you  to  realize,  if  you  can,  my  position — realize 
what  it  meant  to  me  to  exchange  France  for 
England — Paris  for  Suffolk — the  court  of  the 
Tuileries  for  Redisham — life  surrounded  by  father, 
mother,  brothers,  sister,  relations  and  friends,  to 
a  life  in,  perhaps,  the  most  stupid  of  English 
counties,  the  most  prejudiced  of  English  families. 
Those  who  have  never  left  a  loved  country  and 
voluntarily  transplanted  themselves — too  late — 
among  strangers,  can  never  know  how  hard  it  is 
to  be  content. 

It  has  just  come  to  my  ears  that  some  little 
gossiping  people  of  small  note  have  done  me  the 
honour  of  discussing  and  criticizing  me.  Mr. 
256 


DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    III 

— shall  ..        .  Smith  or  Jones  ? — who  sta)  ra 

f(  •■.'.    lays  with  me  in   the  hi  i  >f  an 

American  friend,  and  a  Miss  Cooke's  i  inion, 

whom  I  had  l  >me  \  i  irs  ed 

my  devotion  to  m)  o  untry  and  complained  of  my 
not   bein  ntly    English."     Even   to  i 

ignorant    I  ild    have    thought    contemporary 

history  would  suffice  to  show  that  nothing  from 
the  hour  of  my  birth  to  the  present  day  could 
ever  make  me  English  in  thoughts,  feelings,  id 
or  ways.  I  rather  love  my  English  home,  I  am 
devoted  to  my  English  children,  1  have  great 
aii  r  the  few  friends  I  have  made  in  this 

country.  1  admire  and  respect  I  should  not 
nture  to  say  more — my  English  King;  but  how 
could  I  love  the  English  nation?  Mow  could  I 
care  for  a  people  I  have  always  been  taught  to 
consider   our  gr  foe  ? — not   because    I    was 

born  in  America  at  a  period  when  Americans  were 
anti-English,  whatever  they  may  be  to-day;  not 
as  a  child  I  roamed  on  the  borders  of 
the  Delaware,  where  King  Joseph,  the  Emperor's 
brother,  lived  in  exile  at  Point  Breeze,  as  did  my 
father,  his  n  a  ,  whose  constant  companion  I  was. 

From  their  lips  I  learnt  to  worship  the  great  hero 
who  madly  confided  himself  to  England's  honour 
— a  great  Emperor,  trapped  and  treacherously  be- 
trayed, tortured,  until  he  died.  Not  because  I 
found  in  France,  in  later  years,  any  love  for 
England.  The  only  person  who  might  have 
k  ^s^ 


MY   MEMOIRS 

inspired  me,  the  Emperor  Napoleon  III,  lost  his 
throne  in  his  rash  desire  to  imitate  the  Parlia- 
mentary Government  of  this  country,  and  later 
gave  up  his  life  at  the  hands  of  an  English 
surgeon.  The  Prince  Imperial,  so  beloved  by 
all  who  knew  him — the  hope  of  France  ! — need  I 
tell  how  he  went  to  fight  for  England,  how  he 
was  abandoned  by  England's  soldiers,  how  he 
was  left  to  die  alone,  fighting  the  enemy,  while 
officers  and  men  turned  tail  and  fled,  never 
looking  back  to  be  able  to  tell  how  the  Prince 
bravely  died,  facing  the  foe  ?  Is  it  for  all  this 
that  Mr.  Smith  or  Jones  thinks  I  ought  to  love 
England  ?  Or  is  it  because  I  married  an  English- 
man ? 

After  Christmas  of  187 1  I  went  to  Paris  for  a 
short  time  en  route  to  Nice.  We  stayed  in  the 
Rue  St.  Honore,  at  the  Hotel  St.  James,  the 
house  that  had  belonged  to  the  family  de  Noailles, 
called  "  L' Hotel  de  Noailles,"  in  those  days,  with 
a  pretty  garden  and  most  of  the  rooms  still  with 
the  old  carved  white  panelling,  and  "  trumeaux  " 
over  doors  and  mantelpieces.  All  my  family  were 
in  Paris,  and  once  again  we  were  all  together,  but 
it  was  almost  more  pain  than  pleasure,  everything 
was  so  changed.  The  Avenue  Montaigne,  my 
old  home,  was  bare  and  dilapidated.  The  Prince's 
rooms  alone  were  made  habitable.  Turn  which 
way  I  would  I  felt  pained  and  heartsore.  Paris 
seemed  no  longer  Paris,  the  gay  city  I  had  known. 
258 


DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    III 

Every  one         :n    les  cockers   de   //•  had    s 

t  miliar  a  tone  in  speaking,  that  1  won  1  :red  they 
did  not  say  "tu"  as  in  the  days  of  the  great 
revolution  of 

Leaving  Mr.  Garden  in  Paris  to  attend  to 
ime  business  and  collect  the  remnants  ol  my 
belongings.  I  went  on  to  Nice.  At  Marseilles,  1 
obliged  to  break  my  journey.  I  was  too  ill 
to  go  further.  1  stayed  at  the  Hotel  de  la  Paix 
till  Mr.  Garden  couldjoin  me.  Marseilles  was  so 
well   known   to    me,   s<>    full    of   r  :ctions ;    so 

many  years  it  hail  been  my  resting-place  on  my 
way  to  and  hack  from  our  cote  cTazur  which  the 
English  call  the  Riviera.  From  there,  too,  I  had 
sailed  for  Algiers,  and  the  joyous  winters,  the- 
me rry  part}'  we  were,  all  came  back  so  forcibly  to 
my  mind,  that  I  had  not  the  courage  or  the 
strength  to  struggle  any  longer,  and  for  weeks 
alter  1  got  to  Nice-  1  was  ill  with  low  fever.  We 
change  I  from  the  Hotel  tie  France  to  the  Hdtel 
de.-,  Anglais,  where  we  had  rooms  with  a  little 
garden  running  on  to  the  Promenade  des  Anglais. 
I  was  thus  enabled  to  be  in  the  open  air  each  da) 
and  slowly  1  regained  my  usual  health. 

We  went  on  to  Italy  in  May.  We  stayed  at 
I  .  ineva,  at  Turin.  We  came  back  by  the  Mont 
Cenis,  and  lunched  during  the  twenty  miles 
through  the  tunnel.  I  found  myself  at  Aix  look- 
in"  as  of  yore  at  the   huge   mountain  like  a  su^ar 

cone,    called  "  Le    dent    du    Chat      and    the    deep 

k  a  z  59 


MY  MEMOIRS 

waters  so  intensely  blue  of  the  lac  du  Bourget 
recalled  to  memory  such  happy  hours — all  gone 
never  to  return.  I  asked  to  be  brought  back  to 
England,  to  forget — I  have  never  forgotten — and 
now  in  my  old  age  I  can  echo  the  words, 

"  A  sorrow's  crown  of  sorrows 
Is  remembering  happier  things," 

for  my  greatest  pleasure  is  to  live  again  in  the 
past. 

It  is  June  and  from  the  windows  of  the 
Alexandra  Hotel  I  watch  the  park,  so  thronged 
with  the  gay  lovers  of  the  London  season.  My 
brother  Achille  is  in  town  and  gives  me  news 
of  Chislehurst.  The  Emperor  so  suffering,  so 
patient,  so  resigned,  had  been  during  the  cold 
weather  to  Torquay.  The  place  did  not  agree 
with  him,  he  felt  it  too  relaxing  and  dull  and  was 
glad  to  be  again  at  Camden  Place,  where  he  was 
constantly  surrounded  by  friendly  and  familiar 
faces,  coming,  going,  changing,  like  a  living 
panorama  before  him.  Before  leaving  for  Redis- 
ham  I  went  to  pay  my  respects.  The  Emperor 
asked  me  in  what  part  of  Suffolk  was  Redisham. 
"Not  very  far  from  Yarmouth,  Sire."  "Oh! 
Every  other  town  I  hear  of  has  a  '  mouth ' — 
pronounced   '  mowse.' " 

We  spent  the  summer  at  home.  In  Novem- 
ber, Mr.  Garden  took  General  White's  house  in 

Lowndes  Square,  a  very  large  house,  but  not 
260 


DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    III 

er   than    we   required.       My    father,   mother 
and  brother  were    to  be   with  me   for   the   New 

Y    ir  of  i ''73.      Late  in   December   Mr.  Garden 

k  a  party  of  shooters  for  a  week's  ban 
th<-  poor  pheasants.     They  stayed  over  Christmas 

and  B  I  > ay.  and  gambled  all  night  and  si 

all  l\a\  1  was  told.  It  was  very  characteristic! 
I  spent,  for  the  first  time  in  my  life,  Christm  is 
alone  with  my  old  French  maid,  who  had  n< 
left  me.  1  was  very  seedy  and  felt  miserably 
out  of  spirits,  and  at  war  with  all  the  world.  I 
drove  to  Chislehurst  as  often  as  I  could  ;  but  the 
drive  was  a  long  one,  and  my  state  of  health  did 
not     allow    of    any     exertion    or     fatigi  The 

Emperor  had  been  suffering  more  than  usual. 
The  past  few  months  his  illness  had  made  great 
strides.  At  times  the  pain  was  almost  unbearable. 
The  Empress  now  urged  an  immediate  operation. 
Sir  Henry  Thompson  assured  her  that  it  could 
be  done  ,  and  without  danger  to  the 

illustrious    patient.       The     Emperor  nted, 

more  to  plea  the  I  mpress  than  because  he 
had  any  faith  in  its  success.  He  knew  the  risk 
must  be  great,  but  the  position  must  be  critical, 
the  malady  had   made  such   rapid   pro  in  the 

last  year. 

More  than  once,  when  in  intimate  conversation 
with   those  he  trusted,   he  di  d  that  he  had 

i  ke  t  in  total  ignorance  of  the  gravity  of  the 

repeat  made  in  consultation  by  the  surgeons  some 

261 


MY   MEMOIRS 

days  before  the  declaration  of  war  ;  consultation 
in  which  the  surgeons  concurred  in  the  opinion 
already  given  by  Professor  Lee,  that  an  operation 
was  urgent  and  should  not  longer  be  delayed.  It 
was  not  till  at  Metz,  when  in  positive  agony,  that 
the  Emperor  insisted  on  knowing  the  truth.  He 
bore  the  revelation  with  admirable  fortitude.  My 
brother  told  us  that  throughout  the  campaign  he 
suffered  severe  attacks  without  a  murmur. 

It  was  a  most  anxious  time  for  us  all.  We 
heard  that  the  first  operation  had  done  satisfac- 
torily what  was  required  of  it.  I  went  to  make 
inquiries  and  found  a  number  of  people  surround- 
ing the  Empress  Eugenie,  who,  seated  at  the  tea 
table  in  a  large  bergere,  was  talking  excitedly 
to  those  near  her.  As  I  came  in,  she  turned, 
saying  to  Dr.  Corvisart — "  Has  Sir  Henry  arrived? 
Put  him  in  cotton  wool.  I  beg  you  to  take  great 
care  of  him.  He  has  the  life  of  the  Emperor  in 
his  hands."  We  talked  and  drank  our  tea,  and 
tried  to  appear  gay  and  unconcerned.  I  watched 
the  hands  of  the  clock.  How  slowly  they  seemed 
to  move !  After  a  long  time  Corvisart  came  in 
again  and,  approaching  the  Empress,  handed  her 
a  Sevres  plate  on  which  were  several  small  pieces 
of  crushed  stone.  The  second  operation  had 
also  been  successful.  The  Empress  was  delighted 
and  more  desirous  than  before  to  wrap  Sir  Henry 
in    cotton    wool.      I    went    home    with    a    lighter 

heart. 
262 


DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    III 

A  few  days  later  my  mother  and  father  came 
r  from   Paris.      I.  ns  continued  and 

everything  promised  a  happy  termination,  when 
the  i)  ■•  ime  that  the  Emperor  was  weaker  and 
that  the  final  operation  had  been  decided  up.  .p. 
for  the  next  day.  This  was  January  the  8th.  At 
eleven  o'clock  on  the  9th  a  courier  was  dispatched 
to  inform  us  of  the  Emperor's  death. 

Bef  ire  he  arrived  the  cries  of  the  men  and  boys 
in  the  streets  h  ul  already  spread  the  news.  It 
would  be  im]  ible  to  picture  our  consternation. 
I  could  not  believe  it  to  be  true.  I  ordered  the 
carriage  and   drove  to   Camden    Place   as   fast   as 

o 

my  horses  could  take  me.  rhe  day  was  bitterly 
cold,  the  sky  all  grey,  and  the  roots  black  with  dirt 
and  melted  snow.  Past  Blackheath  and  Lewis- 
ham  we  flew.  The  way  had  never  seemed  so 
long,  and  all  the  time  I  tried  to  persuade  myself 
that  it  might  be  a  faint,  a  trance,  anything  but  death. 
On  arriving,  the  first  person  that  I  saw  was 
the  Prince  Imperial.  lie  was  walking  up  and 
down  the  long  gallery  with  Davilliers.  He  came 
forward  to  meet  me,  neither  oi  us  could  speak. 
With  a  gesture  of  despair  he  turned  away  and 
left  me  that  I  might  go  on  to  the  Empress,  who 
was  in  the  inner  drawing-room.  Then  1  heard 
lr< 'in  her  lips  the  dreadful  truth  in  all  its  details. 
She  told  me  that,  wishing  to  secure  for  their 
patient,  in  view  of  the  proposed  operation,  a  good 
night  and  quiet  sleep,  the  doctors  had  ordered  a 


MY   MEMOIRS 

dose  of  chloral,  which  had  been  administered  by 
Corvisart ;  that,  no  doubt,  in  his  anxiety  he  had 
given  a  larger  dose  than  was  absolutely  required. 
Was  it  by  mistake  or  ill  judgment  ?  Certain  it  is 
that  from  that  dose — double  dose,  some  said — the 
poor  Emperor  never  woke.  The  doctors  arrived 
from  London  too  late.  Nothing  could  be  done. 
The  Emperor  still  breathed.  Sir  William  Gull 
did  all  in  his  power  to  rouse  him.  He  spoke  of 
Sedan,  of  the  capitulation,  in  the  strongest  terms, 
in  hopes  of  awakening  some  feeling,  some  con- 
sciousness. They  sent  for  the  Empress,  who 
prayed  him  to  live  for  her.  She  called  him  every 
endearing  name.  At  last  he  opened  his  eyes, 
looked  at  her  and  smiled.  She  took  his  last 
breath  in  a  kiss.  When  she  lifted  her  head  he 
was  dead.  All  this  she  told  me  as  we  sat  together 
in  the  drawing-room. 

On  leaving  the  Empress  I  found  the  Prince 
still  walking  up  and  down.  His  grief  not  to  have 
been  with  his  father  at  the  last  was  heartbreaking. 
He  had  entreated  to  be  allowed  to  remain.  The 
Emperor  had  expressed  the  wish  that  the  Prince 
should  be  near  him.  The  Prince  had  been  sent 
back  to  Woolwich,  accompanied  by  Adolphe  Clary, 
the  day  before.  No  doubt  the  Empress  feared  any 
emotion  or  agitation  for  the  Emperor,  but  I  was 
not  surprised  that  the  Prince,  in  the  first  moment 
of  his  despair,  declared  he  could  never  forget  or 

forgive. 
264 


DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    111 

My  mother  was  anxious  to  hear  Sir  William 
Gull's  opinion.      S  to  him.     His  answer 

was  most  courteous,  but  he  evaded  giving  any 
decided  i  ipinii  >n.      I .  fter,  in  .  when 

atten  lin  »   my  little  girl,  who  was  dan  sly  ill 

with  peritonitis,  he  asked  me  it'  I  remembered 
writing  to  him.  Hethensaid,  "Itwasimj  ble. 
1  could  not  sign  the  certificate  of  that  post-mortem 

Lamination.  \  u  know,  madam,  in  olden  daws 
the  devil  was  said  to  go  about  the  world  as  a 
roaring  lion— now  he  goes  about  in  the  guise  of 

lispensing  chemist.     This  me  I   sent  you 

eleven  \  m  .  which  as  far  as   I 

am  aware,  was  never  delivered. 

I  should  say  here  that  the  prescription  ordering 
the  dose  of  chloral  was  said  to  have  been  signed 
by  Sir  William  Gull. 

The  Emperor  was  very  averse  from  taking 
it,  saying  the  dose  taken  on  the  previous  night 
had  made  him  feel  ill  and  heavy.  It  was  a contre 
ccsuri  and  as  if  under  a  presentiment,  that  he  at 
last  gave  way  to  the  Empress,  who  implored  him 
to  drink,  and  swallowed  the  nauseous  stuff. 

Rouher,  his  wife  ,  nd  daughter,  had  been   tor 

me  weeks  at  Chislehurst,  having  taken  a  small 
house  in  order  tobenearthe  Emperor.  Madame 
Rouher   was  a  small,   nervous   woman  and   very 

sily  upset.  The  Emperor's  illness  and  death 
told   on   her   i  \\d,    hearing    that    she   was 

suffering,  Mr.  Garden  went  to  inquire.      Il<-  was 


MY   MEMOIRS 

met  first  by  a  terrible  smell  of  roast  mutton  and 
of  garlic  ;  next  by  M.  Rouher  himself,  who  said 
that  it  was  with  some  difficulty  they  had  saved 
Madame  Rouher's  life.  What  had  happened  was 
this  :  she  could  not,  would  not,  believe  the  dose 
of  chloral  had  killed  the  Emperor.  She  wished 
to  try  the  experiment  on  herself.  She  persuaded 
one  of  the  doctors  to  give  her  the  same  amount  of 
chloral  that  had  been  given  to  the  Emperor.  At 
twelve  o'clock  the  next  day  she  showed  no  signs 
of  waking.  Doctors  were  sent  for  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  at  length  succeeded  in  bringing  her 
round.  A  dangerous  experiment.  I  suppose, 
being  younger  and  in  better  health,  she  had  a 
greater  chance  of  life. 

The  news  of  the  Emperor's  death  was  imme- 
diately telegraphed  abroad,  and  London  was 
once  more  crowded  with  relations — friends — 
Napoleonists.  Prince  Napoleon  had  given  up 
his  house  in  Hyde  Park  and  was  at  Claridge's. 
The  Princess  Mathilde  was  at  Thomas's  in 
Berkeley  Square,  very  cross  and  very  sorry  for 
herself.     She  has  always  hated  England. 

The  Duke  and  Duchess  de  Mouchy  were  at 
the  Pulteney.  The  Duke  disliked  the  cooking  at 
the  Pulteney  and  requested  that,  as  the  hotels 
belonged  to  the  same  proprietor,  the  chef  at 
Brown's  should  be  sent  to  the  Pulteney  during 
their  stay.  The  exchange  was  made  after  pressure, 
much  to  the  annoyance  of  the  visitors  at  Brown's. 
266 


DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    III 

ichy   h  nl   particularly  wished  for  the  chan 
<>  many   French  people  were  in   1  n  that 

my  sister  wa  I  to  recei  reat  deal,  more 

illy  in  invitations  to  dinn< 
M\         I   st   brother,  Joachim,  was  also   at   the 
Pulteney,  and  Achille,   though   at  Camden  PI 
v.  .  mtly  in   town.      He   brought   to  Anna's 

first  big  family  dinner  a  Russian  Ban 
nam-:  I  forget.      Like  all  the  Russians  I  hav< 
known,  she   had  great  charm  of  manner  and   was 
a  perfect  linguist,    French  and   English  being  as 
familiar  to  her  as  her  own  language.     She  had  the 
gift  of  palmistry  to  a  wonderful  degre        This  v. 
my   brother's   principal   reason    for   bringing  her. 
11      thought    it  would    be  a   pleasant  and  amusing 
diversion  at  a  time  when  we  were  all  so  miserably 
out  of  spirits.      Alas!      It  did  not  prove  the  succ- 
he  had  intended.     At  first  the  Baroness  was  gay 
and  witty  and   told  us  two  or  three  fortunes  very 
cleverly.     Presently  Clement  Duvernois  came  up 
and  asked  her  to  tell  him  his  future.      She  looked 
at  his  hand  and  becoming  suddenly  very  serious, 
declared  that  she  would  not  reveal  anything  she 
saw.     Prince  Napoleon  laughed  and  his  mockery 
ann<  >yed  her.     She  said  she  would  speak  in  private 
it    Monsieur    Duvernois  cho  They  went   into 

the  other  ro  >m.     What  was  told  we  never  knew, 
but   we   noticed   how  white   Duvernois  was.      He 
as  ii  he  was  going  to  faint,  and  asked  for 
a  -la.^s  ot   wine.      Prince   Napoleon   chaffed  him 


MY   MEMOIRS 

and  turning  to  the  little  Russian  he  said:  "Now  it 
is  my  turn,  Madame."  When  the  Prince  came 
towards  us  again,  he  was  whiter  even  than 
Duvernois — but  with  anger ;  almost  speechless 
with  anger.  He  asked  for  his  carriage  and  drove 
away  :  so  the  evening  came  to  a  sorry  end. 

My  brother  and  the  Baroness  dined  next  day 
with  me  at  Lowndes  Square.  Mr.  Garden  took  a 
great  fancy  to  her.  She  read  his  hand,  and  he 
said  she  had  told  him  some  very  curious  things, 
both  events  in  the  past  and  predictions  for  the 
future.  She  told  him  he  would  die  alone  with  no 
one  near  him — a  prediction  which  came  true  on 
the  2nd  of  June,  1892,  when  he  was  found  dead 
alone  in  his  room,  his  arms  on  a  table,  his 
head  fallen  forward  and  resting  on  them.  The 
Baroness  said  Russians  always  used  cigar  ash  for 
their  teeth  and  asked  Mr.  Garden  to  keep  all  the 
ash  from  his  cigars  and  send  it  her  in  a  year's  time. 
He  sent  her  the  following  year  a  small  gold  box 
filled  with  ashes.  I  have  often  wondered  what 
has  become  of  her,  and  if  she  still  tells  her  friends 
and  acquaintances  how  they  will  live  and  how  they 
will  die  !  I  have  never  heard  of  her  since  we 
parted. 

As  I  have  already  said,  my  health  was  not  very 
good  just  then,  and  I  was  able  to  go  to  Chislehurst 
only  once  more  before  the  funeral.  I  wanted  to 
pay  my  respects  to  the  Empress,  but  I  much 
deprecated  the  thought  of  seeing  the  lying  in 
268 


DEATH    OF    NAPOLEON    111 

state.     1  had  no  idea  that  the  (  -  .  M  rtuaire 

would  be  so  placed  that  it  was  impossible  i 
through  the  gallery  which  ran  all  along  the  house 
without  catching,  at  least,  a  glimpse  ol  the  chapel. 
It  occupied  a  small   room   in   a   recess    .      it   t 

middle  of  the  gallery  and  almost  facing  the  entrance- 
hall  ;  a  rex  "a  I  as  it  were,  ti  i  I  tilery, 
as  it  was  without  doors  or  curtains  of  any  kind.  I 
d  on  as  quickly  as  I  could,  but  not  without 
the  sight,  for  a  second,  of  the  figure  lying  there 
with  the  face  like  yellow  wax.  1  can  see  it  as  1 
i lid  then — a  sight  one  never  forgn  i  ;. 

1  did  not  go  to  the  funeral,  1  was  the  only 
member  of  the  family  absent,  with  the  exception 
of  my  father  and  mother  and  Prince  Napoleon. 
There  was  an  immediate  stampede  after  the 
remony  ;  every  one  left  for  France;  and  London 
— for  me — was  empty  once  more. 


269 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE       EX-EMPRESS 

The  Emperor's  will — The  Prince  Imperial — "Papa,  she's 
pinching  me  !  " — Daniel  Home — Coming-of-age  of  the 
Prince  Imperial — The  box  of  chocolates — An  enterprising 
princess — Anecdote  of  the  Empress  of  Austria — Lord  and 
Lady  Stradbroke 

The  following  morning  the  Prince  Napoleon 
went  to  Chislehurst  to  put  himself  at  the  disposal 
of  the  Empress.  She  pressed  him  to  take  at  once 
cognizance  of  all  papers,  letters,  documents,  in 
the  Emperor's  working-room.  She  mentioned 
that  seals  had  been  affixed  to  every  drawer  and 
cabinet.  Prince  Napoleon  naturally  imagined 
that  this  had  been  done  by  some  legal  authority. 
On  entering  the  study  he  saw  a  profusion  of  seals 
everywhere,  on  everything.  On  approaching,  he 
saw  the  seals  were  all  those  of  M.  Franceschini 
Pietri,  who  accompanied  him.  The  Prince  opened 
one  or  two  drawers  and  then  withdrew.  He 
refused  to  act  as  guardian  to  the  Prince  Imperial, 
or  take  any  responsibility  as  regarded  the  Em- 
perors will.     Certain  papers  of  importance,  historic 

deeds  of  great  value  which  early  in  October  he 
270 


THE    EX  EMPRESS 

had  »een  the  Emperor  put  into  the  drawers  he 
now   opened,    had    di  Lred.     These    \ 

Prince   Na  n   had   read,   and   knew  to    be  of 

political  importance.  One  of  them  had  been  a 
treaty   signed    between    the    I  rors     Francis 

Joseph  and  Napoleon  III  promising  the  help  of 
Austria  to  France  in  case  she  went  to  war  with 
Prussia.  Had  not  other  documents  even  more 
immediately  important  and  private  ine  lik  wise? 
I  low  could  he  tell  ? 

This  is  what  occurred — or,   to  be  more  ex 
what  was  rumour  at  the  time  at   Camden    Place. 
I  cannot  in  any  way  answer   for  the  truth  of  what 
I  am  going  to  say. 

M.  Pietri,  accompanied  by  Mme.  le  Breton, 
had  the  night  before,  as  had  been  done  in  the 
case  of  the  Duke  de  Morny,  gone  through  all  the 
papers  and  documents,  private  and  political  ;  alter 
which  the  s<als  had  been  placed. 

Every  one  knows,  as  it  is  at  Somerset  House, 
that  the  will  found  in  the  Emperor's  desk  was 
dated  April  1865 — five  years,  therefore,  before 
the  war.  In  his  will  he  leaves  the  whole  of  his 
private  fortune  to  the  Empress,  only  mentioning 
his  son  in  recommending  to  him — their  future 
Emperor — the  people  of  France. 

From  his  very  infancy  the  little  Prince  Im- 
perial was  brought  up  verj  strictly.  It  was 
according  to  the  Empress's  wish  that  it  should 
be    so.       She    always    spoke    of    herself    as    Wt'vv 

-71 


MY    MEMOIRS 

romaine.  I  recall  to  mind  several  incidents  of 
his  childhood  which  it  may  be  interesting  to 
relate,  as  some  of  them  took  place  in  my  presence. 
Every  Sunday  we  dined  at  the  Tuileries — les 
diners  de  famille,  none  others  present  except  the 
service.  The  circle  formed,  the  doors  were 
thrown  open  to  announce  their  Majesties — 
"L'Empereur — L'Imperatrice."  The  Emperor 
held  the  hand  of  the  little  Prince.  He  had  been 
taught  to  kiss  the  hand  of  the  Princesses  of  the 
Imperial  family.  On  one  particular  Sunday  he 
made  a  dreadful  mistake,  he  forgot,  and  also 
kissed  Prince  Napoleon's  hand.  The  Emperor 
laughed,  but  the  Empress  was  angry.  She  seized 
the  child,  who  cried  out  "  Papa,  elle  me  pince ' 
("  Papa,  she  is  pinching  me  "),  and  the  poor  little 
fellow  was  dispatched  in  disgrace.  The  Prince 
was  between  four  and  five  years  old  at  this 
time. 

In  the  spring  of  the  same  year,  I  was  at 
Fontainebleu,  with  a  large  series  of  guests.  The 
Prince  Imperial  came  in  after  breakfast,  before 
going  out  for  his  walk,  delighted  to  show  the 
Empress  a  beautiful  box  of  chocolates  which  had 
been  sent  him.  She  told  him  to  go  round  the 
room  and  offer  his  chocolates  to  all  the  guests. 
Going  from  one  end  of  the  room  to  the  other, 
handing  his  treasures,  the  child  gave  way  to  the 
great  temptation  of  putting  one  in  his  mouth. 
Immediately  he  felt  his  neck  clutched  from  behind, 
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and  he  was  made  to  spit  out  the  ch         ite  and 
have  the  box  taken  from  him.      1  v.  sorr) 

the  child;   I  have  never  forgotten  the  s  nor 

the  look  of  pain  on  the   Emperor's  face. 

It  was  at  Biarritz,  three  years  later,  the  Prince, 
then  about  eight  years  old  and  not  a  very  good 
sailor,  was  dreadfully  nervous  and  frightened  on  so 
rough  a  sea  as  the  Bay  of  Biscay.  Nevertheless 
the  Empr  insisted— no  doubt  very  rightly 
that  he  should  go  with  her  on  some  very  short 
cruises.     The  child,  terrified  one  da)'  when  the  • 

behaving  tempestuously,  sought  Duperr^,  who 
said  :  "Voyonsdonc,  Monseigneur,  vous  n'avez  pas 

ir  ?       Mais    vous    n'etes    qu'un    marin    deau 
douce."1  le   Prince  between  his  tears  and  his 

fears — much   to  the  amusement   of   all    around — 
an  1  :        "  Et     vous,     Duperre,    vous     n'et  :s 

qu'un   marin   d'tau  Jilt, 

One  morning  about  the  middle  of  February 
1  received  a  message  from  the  Empress  telling 
me  to  find  Mr.  Daniel  Home  and  bring  him  to 
her.  We  had  all  known  him  in  the  days  of 
Fram  1  knew  him  better  perhaps  than  most, 
as  he  thought  I  was  more  in  sympathy  with  his 
spirits  and   was  anxious  I    should   be   present  at  a 

ince.      !!'•  was  in  high  favour  at  the  Tuileries. 
i.    ig    evenings    were    spent— and    entertaining 

1  "I  say,  M  eur,  surely  you  arc  not   afraid!      Vuu 

arc  only  a  i  fresh  water." 

-    "And  you,  Dupcrrc,  you  arc  a  sailor  of  filtered  • 

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MY   MEMOIRS 

ones — in  listening  to  the  spirits  he  evoked,  in 
seeing  the  wonderful  things  they  did.  To  tell 
you  all  I  saw  and  heard  would  be  impossible, 
and  no  reader  would  believe  me  if  I  did.  I  will 
only  say  that  one  so  impressionable,  so  impulsive 
as  the  Empress  could  not  fail  to  be  deeply  moved 
and  painfully  excited.  This  power,  which  Mr. 
Home  certainly  had,  gained  such  an  influence  at 
Court,  he  worked  so  skilfully  on  the  feelings 
of  the  Empress,  he  evoked  for  her  the  past, 
the  present,  the  future,  in  such  a  terribly  con- 
vincing way  that  the  Ministers  at  a  Cabinet 
meeting  requested  that  Mr.  Home  should  be  re- 
quired to  leave  France.  I  was  sorry,  for  I  really 
liked  him.  Our  interesting  evenings  were  over — 
no  more  wonders  to  subjugate  and  surprise  us — 
no  more  suppers  after  the  Opera,  with  unseen 
hands  playing  the  tunes  on  accordion  or  piano — 
no  more  tables  covered  with  glass  and  plate 
lifted  suddenly  above  our  heads — no  more  noise 
as  if  every  window  and  mirror  in  the  room  was 
ringing  with  sounds  that  told  us  that  Home  was 
coming,  was  in  the  house. 

The  message  from  the  Empress  must  be 
obeyed.  I  hesitated,  very  much  perplexed.  It 
was  such  a  terrible  responsibility.  I  knew  what 
she  wanted.  I  knew  what  a  fatal  effect  it  might 
have  on  a  temperament  so  nervous,  so  excitable. 
Nevertheless,  I  could  not  refuse.  I  sent  for 
Home.  He  responded  to  my  first  call,  though 
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years  had  pa  two  had  met  and  I 

or.  us,    at    least,    tl  »rld    had    chai 

When   I   saw  him   I   thought  him  1  id- 

fully   ill.      We   talked   a  long   time,    but   nothii 
I   could    say   would   persuade    him    t<>    go  to    the 
Emj  lie  knew,   as   I    did,  that  she  wished 

to  see  the  Emper  He  told  me  of  his  broken 

health,   and    said   he    did   not  dare   venture  on 
trial  which,  if  he  su  must  use  his  strength 

ken  him  considerably.      lb-   told    me   of 
his  wife's  death.       lb-  told  me  a  great  deal  about 
his  little  boy,  a  child  of  seven,  who  said   he  saw 
his     mother    constantly    and    held    long    conver- 
is  with  her.      Home  had  married  a  Russian. 

1    wrote  and   expressed   all   my   regret   that   I 
i  unable  to  do  as  the   Empress  wished.       She 
was  much  grieved  and  disappointe  I. 

Prince  Pierre    Bonaparte,   younger  brother  of 

Prince  Lucien  Bonaparte,  of  whom  I  have  spoken, 

marred,  in   [853— without   the  Emperor's  consent 

— a  young  Corsican,  Justine  Ruffin.    The  marriage 

was  never  acknowledged  during  the  Empire  and  de 

/  ■  to  was  not  legal  in  Frani  The-  Prince  was  not 

ved  at  Court  and  he  went  to  Brussels,  where 

!    till    the   Republic  was  proclaimed,   the 

Emperor   granting  him    an  allowance  of  ,/" 4, 000 

a  year.      In    1  572   he  came  to  England  with  his 

wife  and  two  children,  a  boy  and  a  girl.     The 

allowance  failing  him,  he  had  very  little  to  live  on, 

and  his  wife,  a  handsome  woman  with  all  her  wits 

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MY   MEMOIRS 

about  her,  started  a  large  dressmaking  and  mil- 
linery business  in  Bond  Street,  under  her  hus- 
band's name,  much  to  the  indignation  of  the 
Empress.  All  London  flocked  to  Princess 
Pierre  Bonaparte  to  be  gowned,  to  see,  I  sup- 
pose, what  a  princess  could  do  as  an  amateur 
dressmaker.  Prince  Pierre  had  asked  help  from 
the  Emperor  before  consenting  to  the  step  his 
wife  proposed.  It  was  unwise  to  put  before  their 
Majesties  the  alternative.  It  was  considered  a 
threat,  and  the  refusal  to  receive  them  or  in  any- 
way assist  them  was  the  natural  consequence.  I 
had  from  my  earliest  girlhood  been  fond  of  my 
cousin  (uncle  a  la  mode  de  Bretagne).  On  my 
arrival  at  Lowndes  Square,  I  went  to  see  Prince 
Pierre  at  his  private  residence,  9,  Hyde  Park 
Place,  and  met  his  wife  for  the  first  time.  I 
asked  them  to  dine  with  me  one  evening  when  I 
was  sure  of  being  quite  alone,  as  I  was  certain  of 
a  severe  reprimand,  if  not  my  conge1,  from  the 
Empress  should  my  indiscretion  reach  her  ears. 
The  Princess  Pierre  told  me  her  enterprise  was  a 
great  success,  and  that  she  was  able  to  send  her 
son  to  one  of  the  high  English  schools,  not  Eton, 
I  forget  which.  For  some  years  she  prospered, 
then  failed,  I  believe,  and  Prince  Pierre  returned 
with  his  family  to  France.  I  had  lost  sight  of 
them  after  1873  and  was  much  surprised  when 
Prince  Lucien    came  to   me  one  day  during  the 

winter,  I   think  of  1876,  and  asked  me  to  go  to 
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THE    EX  EMPRESS 

Chislehurst  with  him   to  implore   the   Empres; 
aid  for  his  brothi         He  had  great  hop'--.;    I   had 
noii--.    but    I    was    most    anxious    to    second    his 
end  rs.     Th  iition   was  such  a  sad 

Prii  rre  had    written    that    he    was   in    the 

greatest  distress — that  they   were  almost  without 
bread     that  if  no  one   would   help  him,   he    \\ 

termined  to  shoot  himself.  He  could  no  longer 
bear  the  miserable  existence  to  which  he  and  his 
family  were  reduced.  Prince  Lucien  in  telling 
me  all  this  was  so  comical  in  his  manner  and 
comments  that,  sad  as  the  position  was,  I  could 
not  retrain  from  laughing,  when  throwing  up  his 
arms  he  said  in  tones  of  despair — "  II  faut  obtenir 
un  secours  !  Mon  Dieu  !  si  mon  frere  se  tue,  je  ne 
pourrai  plus  jamais  me  montrer  a  l'Athenaeum  !  ' 

As  I  had  foreseen,  nothing  was  to  be  obtained 
from  the  Empress.  She  was  very  angry,  with 
me  especially;  though  she  kept  Prince  Lucien 
to    dinner,    she    said    to    me:    "Ma    chere,   je    ne 

is    retiens    pas    a   diner,   nous    serions   trei 
It  was  Sunday.      I    returned    to  Claridge's  by  a 
late  train,   no   dinner  ordered,   a   weary,   hungry, 
but  not  a  w  iser,   woman. 

1  may  console  myself  that  I  am  not  the  only 
guest  who  has  had  the  experience  of  beiny  sent 
away  dinnerless  from  Chislehurst. 

1  was  staying  at  Claridge's  in  the  early  spring 
of  [876.  1  had  my  usual  rooms  on  the  ground 
floor  of  the  Davies  Street  entrance;  a  charming 


MY   MEMOIRS 

suite  of  rooms,  so  much  more  quiet  and  private 
than  the  Brook  Street  houses,  the  first  floor  of 
which  this  particular  year  was  occupied  by  the 
Empress  of  Austria  and  her  suite.  I  dare  say 
many  people  remember  the  awful  storm  of  the 
last  days  of  March,  when  in  a  few  hours  the 
ground  was  heavily  covered  with  snow,  telegraph 
wires  and  posts  torn  down,  trees  blown  about 
and  trains  impeded.  The  Empress  of  Austria  and 
two  of  her  ladies  had  gone  by  appointment  on  a 
visit  to  the  Empress  Eugenie.  They  were  in  the 
train  en  route  for  Chislehurst  when  the  storm 
broke  over  them.  On  arriving  at  the  station  the 
hurricane  had  already  made  such  havoc  that  it 
was  almost  impossible  to  cross  over  and  get  to 
the  carriages  in  waiting.  One  of  the  ladies,  being 
in  delicate  health,  was  wheeled  to  the  carriage  on  a 
porter's  luggage  truck.  The  storm  continued  with 
such  intensity  that  it  was  nearly  eleven  o'clock  at 
night  when  they  again  reached  Claridge's,  having 
been  away  since  three  o'clock.  No  dinner  had 
been  offered  to  them  at  Camden  Place.  They 
were  very  hungry,  very  tired,  almost  ill,  and 
they  complained  bitterly  of  the  want  of  hospitality 
shown  them. 

Miss  James,  the  housekeeper,  an  old  friend 
of  mine,  was  eloquent  on  the  subject.  I  spent 
part  of  so  many  winters  and  springs  at  Claridge's 
in  those  days  that  it  was  almost  like  home. 
I  had  known  the  hotel  well  in  my  halcyon  days 
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wlu-n  it  was  Mivart's  and  1  a  somebody 
inci 

In  spite  "t  his  threat,  Prince  Pierre  did  not 
kill    himself.      He    died,   however,   and    after    his 

death  his  widow  was  taken  up  and  helped  by 
members  of  the  Bonaparti  t  party,  principally,  1 
am   told,   by    M.    Paul   d<    (  nac.      Her  son, 

Prince  Roland,  is  now  well  known  in  England 
as  in   Paris,  a  great  ir,  as  were  most  of  the 

Lucien  branch  of  the  family.  He  married  an 
heiress,  Mile.  Marie  Plane  of  Monte  Carlo  fame, 
who  died  at  the  birth  of  her  first  child,  a  daughter,1 
leaving  Prince  Roland  all  her  fortune.  As  I 
have   mentioned    M.    Paul   de   '  mac,    I    may 

say  here  that  he  and  Prince  Napoleon  were  at 
one  time  at  daggers  drawn.  There  was  some 
very  serious  political  misunderstanding  between 
them,  the  Empress  holding  entirely  with  M.  de 
Cassagnac.  1  cannot  remember  what  the  details 
were  sufficiently  to  do  more  than  register  the  t 

In  April,  Mr.  Garden  and  his  younger  brother 
went  on  a  shooting  expedition  to  South  Africa. 
My  mntlvr  remained  with  me  and  I  took  a  house 
at  Brighton,  when-  we  spent  the  month  ol  Maw 
I  went  down  to  Southampton  with  Mr.  Garden, 
as  I  wanted  to  see  him  off.  During  my  two  days' 
absence  I  left  the  Princess  with  Miss  Garden,  Mr. 

1  Prince    Roland     Bonaparte's    daughter    lately    married 
I'riii'       Geoi  G  Queen    Alexandra  ; 

but  this,  of  course,  is  since  Princess  Caroline's  death. 

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Garden's  eldest  sister,  at  a  hotel  in  Albemarle 
Street  where  we  often  stayed.  The  house  in 
Lowndes  Square  had  been  given  up.  On  my 
return  to  town  I  found  the  Princess  very  bored 
and  rather  haughty.  She  complained  that  she 
had  not  been  properly  treated  at  the  hotel.  She 
was  not  accustomed  to  an  omelette  for  dinner — and 
no  sweet.  She  supposed  it  was  because  she  was 
alone  that  a  breakfast  mets  had  been  served  for 
dinner.  I  had  unfortunately  neglected  to  order 
for  the  Princess  during  my  absence,  and  Miss 
Garden  did  not  know  that  it  was  not  correct. 
I  remember  when  I  first  came  to  Redisham  on 
a  visit,  I  could  not  get  accustomed  to  the  Suffolk 
repasts,  and  Mr.  Garden  very  kindly  sent  to 
London  for  our  old  chef  Francois,  who  stayed 
with  my  father  through  our  troubles,  and  came 
and  taught  them  how  to  order  and  how  to  cook 
a  dinner.  Now  I  can  eat  anything  or  nothing 
indifferently.1 

In  January  1874  I  went  to  meet  my  father, 
who  came  over  from  Paris  and  was  staying  at 
Brown's  Hotel  for  a  few  weeks.  Then  I  went 
on,  in  February,  to  Mrs.  Hankey,  a  very  old 
friend  of  my  mother's,  for  the  festivities  given 
for  the  Duke  of  Edinburgh's  wedding.  We 
went    to   see    the    illuminations    and    I    thought 

1  In  point  of  fact   the  Princess   Caroline   was   rendered 
indifferent  in  this  matter  by  the  necessity  of  living  mainly 
on  a  regimen  of  dry  toast  during  the  last  few  years  of  her  life. 
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them    the    poorest    1    had    ever    seen.  ral 

dinner-parties  we  had  with  Lord  Mori  on  and 
Alfred    Rothschild.       I    lingered   on   at    Portland 

Pla<  I    had    Tim   and   her   nurse   with    me. 

I      [rove    to    Camden     PI  to    introduce    my 

daughter    to    the     Em]  1    had    asked    the 

Empress  to  be  her  godmother,  but  she  hesitated 
and  said,  after  consultin  '  irdinal  Manning,  she 
did   not   think  shi  :    unless    1    would 

allow  the  child   to   be   a  Catholic.     Mr.   Gardi 
had    not   objected,    but   on    reflection    I    did    not 
think    it    \  and    so    it    was    decided    that    she 

should  bear  the  Empress's  name  and  she  was 
accordingly  christened  1  .  nie  Jacqueline  ;  my 
mother,  who  at  that  time  had  not  become  a 
I     tholic,   standing         Imother. 

The  Empress  was  working  at  her  embroiderv- 
frame  when  1  arrived,  and,  as  we  wanted  to  chat, 
I  sent  the  nurse  away  and  we  put  the  child  down 
to  roll  and  crawl  about  the  floor.  I  was  much 
interested  in  what  the  Empress  was  saying.  She 
had  heard  different  reports  respecting  some  busi- 

s  transactions  ot  my  second  brother,  Prince 
Achille  Murat.  She,  as  always,  had  been  told 
very    i  ed  accounts  by  her  entoura  I 

really  knew  nothing  very  authentic  about  the 
matter,  but  I  promised  to  make  inquiries  at  the 
fountain  head  and  let  her  know  the  truth.  As  it 
happened,  1  was  able  to  ascertain.  Mr.  Garden 
had  a  lawsuit  about  a  horse  with  one  of    tin-    Paris 


MY   MEMOIRS 

horse-dealers  and  had  sent  his  English  solicitor 
over  to  attend  to  the  case  in  court.  I  told  the 
Empress  this  and  assured  her  that  I  would  in- 
struct Mr.  Frome  to  see  the  Prince  and  would  let 
her  know  as  soon  as  possible,  but  I  felt  sure  she 
need  not  be  too  anxious  as  I  was  certain  that 
nothing  of  the  kind  she  anticipated  had  occurred. 
The  following  two  letters,  one  from  the  solicitor, 
one  from  the  Empress,  will  show  how  right  I 
was  in  defending  my  brother  from  the  accusation 
wrongfully  brought  against  him. 

Grand  Hotel,  Paris, 

le  3me-  Febry,  1874. 

My  dear  Princess  Caroline, 

Your  letter  of  Friday  was  sent  on  to  me 
here,  where  I  have  been  staying  since  Saturday. 
I  saw  the  Prince  Achille  on  Sunday  and  found 
that  both  he  and  the  Princess  have  been  all 
heavy  losers  by  the  Spanish  Bank.  I  shall  see 
the  Count  de  Choiseul  and  also  the  Prince  Achille 
again  this  afternoon,  when  I  shall  learn  more  par- 
ticulars. But  I  hasten  to  answer  your  letter  lest 
you  may  think  it  has  not  reached  me.  On  my 
return  to  town  I  will  call  and  give  you  all  the 
information  I  can  learn  on  the  subject.  As  far  as 
I  can  at  present  make  out,  the  Princess  has  lost 
over  ,£3,000.  I  believe  it  is  a  very  bad  affair. 
I  return  to  England  to-morrow  night. 
Believe  me,  I  remain, 

Very  faithfully  yours, 

Charles  T.  Frome. 

The  Princess  Caroline  Murat. 
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THE   EX-EMPRESS 

hurst, 
■     • 
Ma    i 

I     vous  renvoie  la  lettre  q  is  m'avez 

em  D'a  rensei ^nments,  ce  net  lit 

pas  seulement  une  ]  nt  que  nous  devions 

craindre,  mai«  est  pire,  un  scandale. 

Dieu  veuille  que  ce  ne  soit  pas!  .   .   .    Ma  pauvre 
cousine  est  bien  a  plaindre!      fe  vous  prie  de  me 
tenir    au   courant   de   l'affaire,   si  vous   le  /■  .. 
I  votre  jolie  petite  fille  et  croyez  a  tous 

mes  sentiments  affectueux. 

Eugenie. 

Translation,  i 

Camden  Place,  Chislehurst, 

/     ruary  7,   1874. 

My  dear  Niece, 

I  send  you  lack  the  letter  that  you  sent 
to  me.  According  to  information  given  me,  it 
is  not  only  a  loss  of  money  th  it  we  had  to  tear, 
but  also  what  would  be  still  worse,  a  scandal. 
i  ise  G  I  that  this  may  not  be!  My  poor 
cousin  is  very  much  to  be  pitied  !  1  beg  you  to 
keep  me  au  coiirant  ol  the  affair,  if  you  can  do  so. 
Kiss  your  pretty  little  girl  for  me  and  believe  in 
ni)-  affection. 

Eugenie. 

Before  leaving  1  was  curious  to  hear  about  the 
Prince  Imperial's  coming  of  age,  which  would  be 
on   the    1 6th   of  March.      1   learnt  that  great   re 
joicings   were   in   preparation.      It   was   proposed 
that    a   pilgrimage   of   some    thousands    ot    people 

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MY   MEMOIRS 

should  come  to  Camden  Place.  The  Prince 
Imperial  had  himself  written  to  ask  the  Prince 
Napoleon  to  be  present,  but  the  Prince  had  re- 
fused. His  withdrawal  after  the  Emperor's  funeral, 
the  attitude  since  preserved  towards  him,  the 
enmity  with  which  the  Prince  himself  had  been 
taught  to  regard  him,  his  misunderstandings  with 
the  Empress,  all  made  it  easy  for  me  to  see  the 
motives  which  had  prompted  him  to  decline  the 
invitation.  I  regretted  his  decision  for  many 
reasons,  but  I  held  my  peace  ;  speaking  would 
be  of  no  avail.  What  could  the  "  pot  de  terre 
contre  le  pot  de  fer  "  do  but  break  ?  After  tea  I 
took  leave  of  her  Majesty,  deciding  to  remain  in 
town  till  after  the  16th.  I  sent  child  and  nurse 
back  to  Redisham  a  few  days  later  and  moved  to 
the  Pulteney  Hotel,  where  some  of  my  friends 
from  France  where  staying — Prince  Alexander 
de  Wagram,  Marquis  d'Herisson — and  on  the 
1 6th  we  journeyed  down  to  Chislehurst  in  com- 
pany. Eight  thousand  people  of  all  classes  had 
come  from  every  point  of  France  to  greet  the 
Prince  Imperial.  Willis's  Rooms  had  been  chosen 
for  the  purpose  of  distributing  permission  to  enter 
the  grounds  of  Camden  Place.  During  all  day 
on  the  14th  and  15th  crowds  had  assembled  at 
the  doors,  pressing,  pushing  for  admittance,  eager 
to  get  the  cards  for  the  16th.  The  cards  were 
very  simple,  bearing  only  the  inscription — 


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\ 

1    Linden  1  '.      hisleharst 

March  16th,  1874. 

Admit  M 

The  1 6th  was  a  perfectly  heavenly  day.  I 
never  saw  a   brighter    English    sky.      "  Queen's 

Lther "  as  we   say   hi  In   the  old   days  of 

nee  I  should  have  said  "  soleil  d'Austerlitz," 
but  there  is  no  "soleil  d'Austerlitz"  in  these 
da . 

At  ten  o'clock  a  Low  Mass  was  said  at  the 
little  Church  of  St.  Mary  to  the  memory  of  the 
late  Emperor.  The  Empress  and  the  Prince 
walked  back  side  by  side.  On  the  lawn  in  the 
shade  of  a  large  cedar  tree  two  tents  had  been 
placed,  one  large  enough,  I  should  say,  tor  two 
or  three  thousand  people,  with  an  estrade  in  the 
ntre,  the  other,  a  smaller  one,  was  reserved  for 
bu!tet>  m\(\  tables  that  groaned  under  the  weight 
"t  the  preparations  for  the  entertainment  of  such 
numerous  guests.  Round  these  tents  eighty-six 
posts  were  1  at  intervals,  each  post   bearing 

in  large  letters  the  name  of  one  of  the  eighty-six 
departments  of  France.  An  unfortunate  idea,  it 
:med  to  me,  as  it  brought  so  forcibly  to  every 
mind  the  two  missing  ones,  Alsace  and  Lorraine. 
Si  mding  on  the  estrade  in  the  centre  of  the  tent, 
tlie  Duke  de  Padua  addressed   the    Prince   in   the 

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MY   MEMOIRS 

name  of  all  those  present  and  absent  who  were 
still  faithful  to  the  name  of  Napoleon. 

The  Prince  Imperial,  standing  with  the  Em- 
press and  family  and  officials  of  his  household 
grouped  around  him,  replied  in  calm,  measured 
tones,  speaking  so  distinctly  that  each  word  could 
be  heard  by  all. 

This  was  his  maiden  speech  ;  I  thought  ot 
our  dead  Emperor.  How  proud  he  would  have 
been  could  he  have  heard,  could  he  have  seen 
the  son  he  so  worshipped,  on  this  his  eighteenth 
birthday ! 

We  caught  a  late  train  back  to  the  Pulteney, 
and  had  a  gay  dinner  and  evening.  The  next 
day  all  my  friends  left  for  Paris,  and  my  heart 
was  like  a  ballroom  when  all  the  guests  are  gone 
and  the  lights  are  put  out.  I  returned  drearily  to 
Suffolk,  envying  those  who,  more  fortunate  than 
myself,  could  breathe  the  air  of  France. 

News  from  South  Africa  came  very  rarely, 
and  at  long  intervals.  Mr.  Garden  was  travelling 
up-country  in  pursuit  of  big  game.  His  last 
letter  had  intimated  that  he  should  be  away 
nearly  a  year  longer.  As  the  year  1874  was 
drawing  to  a  close  my  patience  gave  way.  I  felt 
weary  and  homesick.  I  determined  to  go  to 
Paris  and  regain  a  little  courage  for  the  fight  with 
life.  I  stayed  in  Paris  over  the  new  year,  and 
saw  the  dawn  of  1875  from  a  pied  a  terre  in  the 
Boulevard  Malesherbes.  What  a  change  !  How 
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dii  tit  all  was  from  what  1  had  known.  We 
were  all  dispersed  ;  no  1 

I    ;tivities  ;  no   bouqm  trinkets   from 

devoted  admirer 

My  mother  was  with  my  sister  at  Mouchy, 
my  eldest  brother  at  (  <r  ibois,  my  brother 
Achille  in  the  Caucasus,  but  my  lather  was  with 
me.  We  both  wished  we  might  go  away  any- 
where—to he  thus  in  Paris  wa  iter  pain  than 
pleasure.     Also  "  Dattie,     is    rim  was  then  called, 

.  a  young  lady  of  not  quite  two  years.  She 
disliked  every  thing  around  her,  would  eat  nothin 
called  French  bread  sour,  cried  for  batter  pudding 
and  gravy  and  beer,  said  it  was  all  nasty  when  it 
was  with  difficulty  procured,  and  proceeded  to  be 
sick  every  time  she  touched  food.  I  decided  to  go 
to  Pau  for  the  remainder  of  the  winter.  I  took 
a  small  pavilion  belonging  to  the  1  [dtel  de  France, 
and  there,  with  rather  a  large  suite,  Mr.  Garden 
found  us  on  his  return  in  the  month  ot  April. 
H-  rather  put  out  at  my  being  abr  ad,  as  he- 

had  telegraphed  from  Madeira  for  me  to  me<  t 
him    at  hampton,   and    not   very   pleased   at 

finding  me  settled  with  a  retinue  of  servants,  as 
1    had   thought  it  n  try  to  take  two  nurses  as 

well  as  a  maid  and  a  lady  companion,  also  my 
owai  and  my  father's  valet,  and  a  gentleman  who 
always  accompanied  the  Prin 

S  >on    after    Mr.    Garden's    arrival    the    men 

went    off   together    on  a    fishing    expedition    to 

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MY   MEMOIRS 

Germany,  and  I  returned  to  England,  and  went 
for  a  few  weeks  to  Richmond. 

Mr.  Garden  wrote  and  gave  me  their  address, 
"  Pike  Hotel,  Lucerne."  They  wrote  and  wrote 
again  and  complained  that  no  letters  had  reached 
them.  I  might  have  known  that  it  was  one  of 
an  Englishman's  practical  jokes  ;  but  I  was 
younger  in  those  days,  and  very  unaccustomed 
to  jokes  being  played  on  me.  Yet  I  honestly 
confess  I  was  more  than  stupid  not  to  see  that  the 
address  should  have  been  "  Hotel  du  Brochet," 
and  that  "  Pike  Hotel"  would  not  be  understood 
by  German  locals,  and  so  my  letters  came  back 
with  "  Insiifficient  address!'  I  was  very  angry, 
and  remained  in  indignant  silence  till  their 
return. 

I   have  omitted   to  relate  three  things  which 

took    place  in  the  summer  of    1875,  while    Mr. 

Garden    was    away.     The    marriage   of   Colonel 

Bonham   with   Gina   Sheriff   comes  first    to    my 

mind.      It  was  a  pretty  country  marriage — tents 

on  the  lawn — refreshments,  toasts  and  speeches. 

The  people  in  great  form  were  Lady  Stradbroke 

and  Colonel  Chester,  who  told  me  he  had  been  to 

Chislehurst   in    1872   and   had    had   a   very  long 

political    conference    with    the    late    Emperor — a 

conference  in  which  the  Emperor  had  spoken  very 

openly  of  his  hopes  and  plans  for  the  future,  not 

disguising  the  fact  that  he  was  organizing  things 

for  the  restoration  of  the  Empire,  and  his  abdi- 
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tion  in  favour  ol   his  son.     I  was  highly  enti 
tained,  as  I  knew  th<  lot  one  word  of  truth 

from  beginning  to  end.    Whatever  the  Em     ror's 
ideas  may  have  been  I  am  sure 
them  to  Colonel  Chester,  nor  do   1   think  Colonel 
Chester  was  ever  at  Camden  Pla  e.     The  Mis 
(.'Luke  from   Worlingham   were   in    their   high     l 
spirits.      I  had  gi  ver  with  a  pair  ol  perch 

—  French  post-horses  and  a  postilion.  1  drove 
awa)  a  few  moments  before  the  brick:  and  br 

im.  Presently,  ab  iut  two  hundred  yards 
down  tin-  road,  Miss  Garden  and  mysell  were 
literally  pelted  with  rice,  slippers,  and  every  con 
ceivable  horror.  The  horses  shied  across  the 
•  !,  and  the  man  had  some  trouble  in  controlling 
them.  We  thought  it  rather  a  bad  joke,  but  the 
Clarkes  were  highly  delighted  at  their  success  and 
shouted  with  laughter.  Lady  Stradbroke  gave 
.i  dance  to  celebrate  the  wedding.  Fireworks 
were  going  on  at  some  little  distance  in  front 
of  the  house.  I  talked  for  some  time  to  1. 
Stradbroke,  quite  a  t\  pe  of  the  old  .school,  and  to 
Lord  Waveney,  whom  I  knew  very  well  ;  I  so 
often    went   to    Flixton,    which,   according  to  my 

ideas,  was  by  a  long  way  the  best  kepi  and  the: 
finest  place  in  these  parts  ;  and  he  spoke  ot  de 
Caux  and  Patti.  Lord  Waveney  said  he  met 
de  Caux  at  dinner,  he  was  a  good  talker  yes, 
very  sufficient  for  himself,  but  very  insufficient 
for     others.      lie     was    for     a    long   time    in    the 


MY    MEMOIRS 

Emperor's    household,    but    had    to   give  up    his 

position   on  account  of  his   marriage,  as  no  one 

could   marry  a  singer  and   hold  their  position  at 

Court.      I  asked  for  my  carriage  early,  and  had 

my    foot    on    the    steps    when    a   sudden    rocket 

startled   my   horses   and    they   bolted   with   door 

open,    steps  down,  and   footman  nearly   knocked 

off  his   feet.     Lady   Stradbroke  shouted  for  the 

police,  who  arrived,  but  were  not   of  much  avail 

in  arresting  my   two   runaways.     Eventually  the 

coachman  mastered  them  and  they  were  brought 

back.      Miss  Garden  was  already  in  the  carriage, 

and    a    Miss    Arnold    whom    I    had    brought   to 

Henham  ;   I    had   also    offered  a  seat    to  a  man 

staying  with  us,  who  had  been  to  Southwold  for 

the  day,   and  walked  back  to    Henham  and  got 

into  the  carriage  before  it  drove  up  for  us.     Miss 

Arnold,  not  knowing  any  one  was  in  the  carriage, 

was  rather  frightened  when  the  horses  bolted,  and 

being  thrown   forward,    clutched  the  unfortunate 

man  by  the  head,  knocked  his  hat  off,  and  left  a 

very  serious   impression    on   it   before  she  could 

regain  her  seat. 

Two  or  three  nights  later  we  went  to  a  ball  at 

Mr.  Doughty 's.     I  danced  once  with  the  master 

of   the   house.      There  was   supper    par  petites 

tables,  as  we  say  in   French.     Every  one  pushed 

to  try  to  get  to  the  top   of  the  room  to    Lady 

Stradbroke's  table.       I    thought   it    very    vulgar 

behaviour,    and    wondered    why    Suffolk    people 
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THE    EX-EMPRESS 

i  so  ignorant  in  comparison  with   Lon 
and    the   people    I    met    in    town.       I    was    I 
Suffolk  had  been  p  and  n  waking  up. 

1  wo  people  were  m  >st  rude  and  ill  man  I — a 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  II .     I  suppose  it  was  in  some 

way  intimated  to   them,  for   a  day  or  two  after 
they  came   to   call.      My   carriage    was  drawn   up 
and  I  was  just  coming  out  of  the  door.      I  lool 
at  them,  I  I   and  smiled   as  amiably  as  I  could 

and,  stepping  into  my  carriage,  dr  »ff.      1   am 

glad  to  say  we  never  met  again,  nor  do  I  know 
it  they  are  now  alive.  Miss  Garden  was  slightly 
fluttered,  as   she   had  known   them   all    her  life. 


1  -  291 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE   PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

I  am  rebuffed  by  the  Empress — The  Prince  Imperial  at  Cowes 
— The  Orleans  Club — Spiritualism — Death  of  my  father — 
A  crowning  blow — The  amiable  qualities  of  the  Empress 
Eugenie — Her  superstitions — The  Zulu  war — The  Prince 
Imperial  volunteers — General  Fleury — The  Prince's  equip- 
ment— The  question  of  his  will — His  last  night  in  England 
—"Too  late!"— The  Duchess  Malakoff— Zizi  d'Arcos— 
"The  Four  Widows" — Funeral  of  the  Prince  Imperial — 
Queen  Victoria  and  Princess  Beatrice — Incidents  in  the 
Highlands — "Je  Suis  Louis  Quatorze  " 

The  Empress  was  at  all  times — even  in  exile — 
very  strict  with  regard  to  etiquette.  I  forget, 
but  I  think  it  was  for  the  ist  of  January,  1896, 
that  I  received  an  invitation  to  dinner  at  Camden 
Place.  I  went  up  to  Claridge's,  thinking  it  rather 
an  expensive  command.  The  train  was  somewhat 
late,  and  by  the  time  my  maid  had  unpacked 
and  I  was  dressed,  we  were  too  late  to  think  of 
catching  the  train  to  Chislehurst  by  which  the 
other  guests  would  travel  and  find  carriages  at 
the  station  to  meet  them.  Mr.  Garden  ordered 
a  landau,  and  we  posted  full  speed,  but  the  driver, 
as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  lost  his  way.  The  night 
292 


THE    PRINCE    [MPERIAL 

was  dark.  Mr.  Garden  got  out  and  looked 
around  to  take  his  bearings,  and  put  us  on  the 
right  road.  All  this  lost  time,  and  it  was  nearly 
nine  o'clock  when  we  arrived  at  Camden  1'! 
As  the  dinner  hour  was  8.30  our  reception  was 
more  than  cool,  although  I  was  profuse  in  apolo- 
The  Empress  said  she  would  never  ask 
me  to  dinner  again.  She  could  not  understand 
why  I  could  not  come  by  train  like  other  people. 
It  v.  ily  that   I   liked  to  give  myself  airs,  she 

add  I    mentioned   that    1    had  come  up  from 

Suffolk  ;  but  this  observation  was  ignored.  At 
last  1  was  allowed  to  take  my  scat  by  tlw  Prince 
Imperial,  who  was,  as  always,  amiable  and  kind. 

Mr.  Garden  was  too  furious  for  thoughts, 
and  I  so  confused  I  could  not  cat.  The  Prince 
chatted,  and  after  a  while  I  recovered  and  chaffed 
him   about  his   flirtations  with  a   Spanish  lady,  a 

Mine  ,  a  great  friend  of  the    Empress.     He 

said  she  was  still  a  very  pretty  woman.  I  laughed 
and  said,  "  Monseigneur,  je  ne  savais  pas  que 
vous  aimiez  les  jambes  tie  hois."  He  answered, 
"En  effet  je  les  preTeres  plus  I  es — en  bouchon 
par  example."  Ii  was  said  that  the  lady  had  a 
cork  leg. 

It  was  the  last  New  Year  I  ever  spent  with 
her   Maje  ity  and  the   Prince. 

In  die  summer  of  that  year  1  was  asked  to 
go  lor  die  (  owes  week  on  hoard  Mr.  \ .  Wood's 
yacht,  the  Corinne.     Something  went  wrong  with 


MY   MEMOIRS 

the  yacht,  at  the  last  hour,  and  we  took  rooms  at 
the  Marine  Hotel,  Cowes,  to  wait  for  the  neces- 
sary repairs.  At  the  hotel,  which  was  crammed, 
I  found  I  was  next  to  Lady  George  Lennox. 
Our  balconies  touched.  She  had  a  Miss  Melita 
Ponsonby  with  her,  an  old  maid  who  always  did 
duty  for  the  different  members  of  the  Lennox 
family.  I  made  her  acquaintance  many  years 
after  at  Brighton  when  she  was  with  Lady  Alex- 
ander Lennox.  Some  of  her  sayings  are  tradi- 
tional. On  the  other  side  was  Mrs.  Standish, 
a  very  pretty  Frenchwoman,  married  to  Henry 
Standish,  half  English,  half  French,  being  the  son 
of  the  Duke  de  Mouchy's  aunt,  Mile,  de  Noailles, 
who  married  a  Mr.  Standish,  very  rich,  but  for 
some  reason,  after  the  birth  of  her  second  son, 
Cecil,  they  separated,  and  she  lived  entirely  in 
France  with  her  two  sons,  who  were  brought 
up  with  the  Duke  de  Mouchy,  whose  mother 
died  when  he  was  quite  young.  Henry  Standish 
had  always  remained  on  the  best  of  terms  with 
his  father,  came  often  to  England  to  visit  him, 
and  inherited  a  large  fortune  at  his  death.  On 
the  evening  of  my  arrival  I  heard  from  my  maid 
that  rooms  had  been  retained  for  the  Prince 
Imperial.  I  thought  I  was  clever  at  guessing, 
but  I  was  mistaken  this  time.  Before  the  Prince 
came,  Mrs.  Standish  had  the  honour  of  a  visit 
from  H.R.H.  the  Prince  of  Wales.    I  was  reading 

on  my  balcony  when  my  attention  was  suddenly 
294 


THE    PRINCE    EMPERIAL 

drawn    to   two   genl  :i    laughing    and    talking 

below.  I  was  surprised  to  see  Henry  Standish 
ami  Mr.  Francis  Knoll)  The)  walked  up  and 
down,  I  should  say,  for  nearly  an  hour.  I  was  so 
astounded  at  what  I  con  I    Henrv  Standish's 

inconceivable    behaviour    that     I     i  1    my 

opinion  openly.  I  was  told  that  it  was  correct 
etiquette  for  the  husband  to  entertain  Mr.  Francis 
Knollys,  or  any  one  else  in  attendance,  when  so 
august  a  personage  dad  a  lady  the  honour  of  a 
visit. 

I  had  a  large  basket  of  beautiful  grapes  put  in 
the  Prince  Imperial's  room  on  his  arrival.  Two 
things  disappointed  me  :  First,  the  person  who 
accompanied  the  Prince  was  Adolphe  Clary,  and 
I  knew  he  would  make  himself  as  disagreeable  as 
he  dared.  Next,  the  yacht  was  longer  in  repair- 
ing than  had  been  expected,  and  I  was  not  able 
to  entertain  the  Prince  on  board  as  I  had  wished 
to  do.  The  Prince,  on  the  morning  after  his 
arrival  at  C<>\ves,  sent  for  me  to  come  and  see 
him.  We  were  on  the  point  of  sitting  down  to 
lunch.  Mr.  Garden  was  a  person  unaccustomed  to 
Court  life,  and  thought  an  Englishman's  luncheon 
waited  lor  no  man.  I  had  to  make  my  excuses 
and  say  I  would  come  an  hour  later.  'Phis  put 
Clary  in  a  rage.  Reordered  the  Prince's  carria; 
tor  th''  hour  I  had  named  and  scarcely  allowed  us 
ten  minutes'  conversation. 

I    was  grieved   to  find   the    Prince  looking  ill 


MY   MEMOIRS 

and  tired,  with  his  arm  in  a  sling.  I  asked  him 
if  he  had  been  to  the  wars.  He  told  me  he  went 
down  to  Aldershot  with  a  very  gay  party.  After 
dinner  they  called  on  him  to  make  a  speech.  He 
said  he  would  rather  give  them  a  song,  which 
he  did,  standing  on  a  table.  There  was  much 
laughing  and  cheering,  but  some  young  fellow, 
gayer  than  the  rest,  tipped  up  the  table  suddenly. 
The  Prince  lost  his  balance  and  fell  backwards 
on  to  the  grate  where  a  big  fire  was  burning, 
the  table  falling  on  him.  Before  any  one  could 
reach  him,  his  arm  was  badly  burned.  He  said 
he  felt  still  very  unwell,  although  several  weeks 
had  elapsed  since  his  accident.  Clary  was  knock- 
ing at  the  door  for  the  second  time,  so  we  took 
our  leave.  The  Prince  said  he  had  only  come 
for  a  day  or  two  for  a  garden/"^  being  given  at 
Eaglehurst,  the  pretty  place  occupied  by  the 
Bathyani's.  I  knew  Mme.  Bathyani  slightly, 
having  met  her  once  or  twice  on  her  visits  to 
her  sister,  Mme.  Bornemann,  who  was  one  of  my 
oldest  friends  in  Paris.  Mme.  Bathyani  had  her 
niece,  Anna  Bornemann,  with  her.  Rather  a 
pretty  girl,  who  married  Comte  Lutzow. 

When  the  Corinne  appeared  in  the  waters 
of  the  Solent  I  went  on  board  and  spent  a  day  or 
two  off  Ryde.  On  returning  to  London  I  went 
to  Camden  Place  before  burying  myself  in  Suffolk. 
The  Empress  was  in  excellent  spirits,  with  quite 

a  crowd  of  French  people  round  her,  all  strolling 
296 


1  111      I'l  :  MAI. 


THE    PRINCE    [MPERIAL 

or  sitting  on    the    lawn.       Princess    Poniatow 
among  others,  who  s<  emed  in  one  oi  her  frivolous 
moods,    was    catching    the    Empress's    hand   and 
biting,  or    pretending    to    bite,   her    little    finger. 
There  v.  idently  some  j<  lo     1   did   not   under 

stand.       The      Prince     Imperial     was     practising 
athK-tic  sports  with   two  of  his  frien 

While  all  this  was  going  on  the   Emp  was 

endeavouring  to  read  me  som<  tter 

she  had  just  received  from  Kin  arofSweden, 

which  related  to  my  youngest  brother,  who  after 
[870  was  sent  by  the  Emperor  to  King  Char! 
and  was  given  by  him  a  position  in  his  military 
household,  lie  remained  with  the  Kin-,  who 
became  very  fond  of  him,  and  wished  lor  him 
constantly  during  his  illness.      The   Kin-'  died   in 

tember  1872.  My  brother  told  me  his 
greatest  trial  had  been  keeping  watch  through 
two  nights  of  the  lying  in  state  u\  the  dead 
sovereign.  1  !<•  left  Sweden  when  King  Oscar 
came  to  the  throne,  and  shortly  after,  in  November 
1873,  married  a  Russian,  Princess  Orbeliani.  It 
was  about  the  christening  of  their  first  son  to 
whom  he  was  to  stand  godfather  that  Kin  1  1  ar 
had  written. 

Finding  it  quite  impossible  that  1  should  hear 
or  understand  what  she  was  reading  to  me,  the 
Empress  handed  me  the  letter,  saying,  "  Put  it  in 
your  pocket.  You  can  read  it  at  your  leisure  and 
cop)  the  parts  that  interest  Louis — bring  it  hark 

297 


MY   MEMOIRS 

the  next  time  you  come."  I  was  rather  tired 
in  the  evening  when  I  got.  back  to  Claridge's,  and 
thought  no  more  of  the  letter.  The  next  morning, 
long  before  the  usual  hour  for  my  maid  to  call 
me,  I  heard  a  great  knocking  at  my  door.  I  was 
afraid  something  had  happened  to  the  children 
left  in  the  country.  I  called  out  to  know,  and  was 
angry  but  relieved  when  the  porter  said  it  was  a 
note  from  Camden  Place  and  that  an  answer  was 
required.  I  told  him  the  messenger  must  wait 
or  return  later,  as  I  objected  to  being  disturbed 
before  my  usual  time.  When  my  maid  came  with 
my  breakfast  she  brought  me  the  note.  As  I 
had  suspected  from  the  first  it  was  from  Clary, 
saying  he  was  directed  to  ask  me  to  return  the 
King's  letter  per  bearer.  Gamble,  the  head  of 
the  stables,  was  the  messenger.  I  told  him  I 
had  not  taken  notes  from  the  letter  according  to 
the  Empress's  wish,  and  would  send  it  by  mes- 
senger some  time  in  the  afternoon.  Gamble  said 
his  orders  were  not  to  return  without  it,  so  the 
poor  man,  much  to  his  disgust,  had  to  wait  a 
considerable  time.  What  capital  Clary  thought 
we  could  make  out  of  a  letter  of  no  particular 
interest  to  any  one,  I  could  not  fathom.  Mr. 
Garden  was  more  than  annoyed.  I  said  I  was 
sure  it  was  Clary's  usual  spite,  but  Mr.  Garden 
considered,  and  rightly,  that  having  made  use  of 
him  in  every  possible  way  all  through  the  autumn 

and  winter  of  1870,  having  allowed  him  to  go  to 
298 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

and   fr<  nn   Wilhelmsh  .  -   her 

taking   her  dispatches    without   her  ever 
offering    to    ;  farthing    oi    the    expensi 

having  i  f  main-  times  given  him  a  numl 

litis   t  which  ha<l 

him   a    small   fortune   of   which    no    payment   h 
even  '  ted,  he  vi         ntitled  :rt  tin 

nount  of  courtesy,  and  at  all  events  civil  treat- 
ment "from  her  paid  flunkeys,"  as  he  put  it. 
How  littli  the  Empres         How  little  he 

knew  th  tematic   rudeness  which   was  carrii 

on  by  her  Court  officials  at  the  1  iil  ri  3  and 
which  continued  Mil  a  small  scale  at  Chislehurst ! 
Many  others,  like  Mr.  Gard  It  and  said  they 

had  never  received  the  most  trifling  acknowledge 
ment  of   all   they  had   done    and    spent    for    her 
Majesty  at  the  time  of  her  flight  and  afterwards.1 
The   very    first    free   day    I    went   to  see    the 
Em]  ind   hoped   to  have  some  light   thrown 

on    the    incident,    but    I     was  to    elucidal 

nothin        The    Prince  and    I    talked   together  a 

1  At    the  time  of   Napoleon's   death   the    fortune  of    the 

was   considerable.      Apart    from    the    value  of   I 

jewel-,  and  her  properties  in  Spain,  she  owned   three   houses   in 

the  Rue  d  1  In  mputed  to  .     0,000,  two  build 

s    in     Rue   d'Albe    worth    ^36,000,   estates   at    Solferino 

o,oco,  Jouchere  /  :o,ooo,  Uiarrit/  ,£,40,000,  the   Imperial 

Marseill  tate  in  th<    I  Pyren« 

, S.ooo,  and  >oo  in  cash,  which,  increased  by  legacies 

and  thrift,  gave  her  a  total  ino  not  le  .      0,000 

a  year. 

299 


MY   MEMOIRS 

long  time.  He  said  how  dull  life  was  at  Camden 
Place.  We  were  going  to  take  a  party  to 
Greenwich  for  a  fish  dinner  on  the  Sunday  fol- 
lowing. Mr.  Garden  was  to  drive  us  down  on  a 
coach.  I  told  the  Prince  it  would  give  me  real 
pleasure  if  he  would  join  us.  He  said  he  was  too 
sorry,  he  would  have  enjoyed  it  immensely,  but 
it  was  impossible.  I  pressed  him,  asking  why. 
Had  he  a  previous  engagement  ?  He  said  he 
was  certain  the  Empress  would  object.  "  Do  let 
me  ask,"  I  ventured  to  say.  "  I  am  sure  I  can 
induce  her  to  let  you  come."  The  Prince  got 
rather  red  and  said,  "  Non !  ma  cousine,  je  ne 
demande  jamais  rien,  parceque  je  n'admets  pas 
que  Ton  me  refuse."  I  was  grieved  and  surprised, 
I  had  no  idea  of  the  state  of  things,  though  of 
course  I  had  heard  rumours  that  the  Prince  was 
not  his  own  master. 

The  next  day  I  went  to  Bayswater  to  see  my 
old  uncle  a  la  mode  de  Bretagne,  Prince  Louis 
Lucien.  I  wanted  to  talk  the  matter  over  with 
him.  He  was  absolutely  devoted  to  the  Prince, 
and  strongly  advised  me  to  accept  his  decision 
and  keep  what  he  had  said  to  myself.  It  was 
good  advice,  and  I  strictly  adhered  to  it.  He 
said  at  times  the  Prince  was  wonderfully  young 
and  gay,  and  amused  me  by  relating  that  the  last 
evening  he  had  spent  at  Chislehurst  there  was  a 
great  hue  and  cry  because  the  Prince  was  nowhere 

to  be  found.      Clary  had  announced  dinner  and 

300 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

the    Em  waiting  imp  ti     tly  while  tl 

irch  continued  up-stairs   and  down,  insi  id 

out,   high  and   low.      The    Empress  at  last   w 
goiiiLj'  in  to  dinner  with  Print      Louis  Lucien,  when 
passing  through  th<  heard  a  cockcrow. 

Look  hind  them  they  saw  the  missing  culprit 

ited  on  the  top  of  a  very  high  screen.  He 
jumped  down,  begged  pardon  lor  his  joke — 
pardon  which  ii  seems  was  not  as  cordially  given 
as   he   h  id   antici]  I    i  in    understand    it, 

personally  1  should  have  been  perfectl)  furious  it 
one  of  my  children  had  ever  played  such  a  joke 
on  me — mo  ially  on  a  guest  night. 

r  me  i  S 7 7  was  a  very  quiet  year.  I 
cannot  remember  any  event  worth  recording 
except  tin:  birth  of  my  second  daughter.  M\ 
father  and  mother  passed  the  summer  with  me, 
my  lath-  r  leaving  a  week  or  two  before  the  child's 
birth.  All  through  the  fall  of  the  year  I  was 
ill.  My  mother  did  not  return  to  France  till 
August.  Early  in  iS;S  we  engaged  rooms  at 
Claridge's  and  spent  the  winter  in  town.  I  saw 
a  great  deal  of  Miss  Sykes — and  of  her  friends, 
Lord  Ranelagh,  and  his  daughter,  Emmy  Jones. 
One  of  Lord  Ranelagh's  daughters  was  married 
to  Mr.  Le  Breton,  Mrs.  Langtry's  brother.  The 
Other  was  unmarried  at  the  time  1  knew  her  but 
married,  Liter  on,  Mark  Napier  who  went  out  to 
Egypt,  as  it  may  be  remembered,  as  the  chosen 
barrister    to    defend    Arabi    Pasha.     Miss   Sykes 

3QI 


MY   MEMOIRS 

was    also    very    intimate    with    Lady    Archibald 

Campbell.     She  was  anxious  I  should  give  them 

all  a  dinner  at  the  Orleans  Club  which  was  just 

then  the  great  fashion.      To  dine  at  the  Orleans 

was    the  proper   thing    to    do.      Lady   Archibald 

was  a  firm    believer    in   spirits.     She   had    been 

converted  by  a  Mr.  Williams  whom   I  thought  a 

very  second-rate  medium — certainly  no  one  who 

had  known   Daniel   Home  could  be  in  the  least 

impressed   by  him.     At  dinner  the  conversation 

turned  to  this  topic  and  some  one  sitting  by  Lady 

Archibald  said,   "  I   will  believe  in  your  spirits  if 

they  will  tell  me  the  winner  of  this  year's  Derby." 

She    turned   angrily  to    me   and  said  in    a    loud 

voice :   "  Princess,    I  had  no  idea  you  would  ask 

so  commonplace  a   person  to  meet  us."     I  was 

rather     annoyed,     as    the    commonplace    person 

happened  to  be  the  member  of  the  Orleans  who 

was  giving  me  the  dinner.     A  day  or  two  after 

we  went,  Lady  Archibald,  Miss  Sykes  and  myself, 

to  a  stance  at  Mr.  Williams'.     We  were  ushered 

into  a  dark  room,  very  small,  with  a  table  in  the 

centre  and  curtains  behind,  with  a  door  which  led 

evidently  into  a  small  room  or  closet.      Lady  A. 

had  a  cold,  and  a  familiar  spirit  was  evoked  who 

seemed   quite   at   home   and    proved    to    have    a 

soothing     effect.      I     confess     I     saw    absolutely 

nothing,  and   went   away   very    disappointed.      I 

had    heard  such    wonders   talked  of  in   advance. 

In  the  evening  I  went  to  Princess  Malcolm  Khan, 
302 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

and  we  had    i  good  laugh  my  advent   r 

Another  friend  of  Miss  Sykes  she  intr  1  to 

me,  was  the  sister  of  a  man  called  Ja.  im 

I  had  known  in  the  carbineers  when  they  came  to 

irwich.     Col.  Napier  broughthim  once  to  shi 
at    Redisham.     I  liked  the  sister  better  than  the 
brother.      She    was    handsome    and     very 
company.      '  olonel    Nassau    1  who    had    a 

pretty  house  in   Piccadilly,  was  a  friend  ol    Lord 
Ranelagh's.     At  one  of  his  dinners    I   had   next 
me    Baker   Pasha.     To  my  surprise   he  did    not 
look  in  the   least  like  a  1  )on   Juan,  nor  did  he  talk 
like  one.      I  thought  him  of  Arcadian  simplicity. 
I  was   more  and  more  convinced  he  had  been  un- 
justly treated,  and  I  longed  to  tell  him  so.     It  was 
not  till  later  that  he  became   Pasha     I   made  the 
acquaintance  of  Sir  Samuel   Baker   and  his  two 
unmarried  daughters  at  a   concert  at  Sir   Henry 
Rawlinson's.      The    house   was    very    small    and 
crowded.       The    .staircase — as    in    most    cases    in 
English    entertainments — being    tin.-    most    com- 
fortable  place.     The  Misses  baker  thought  they 
aid  sing,  and  were  among  the  performers  of  this 
amateur  concert.     The  Empress  was  much  inter- 
ted  in  Sir  Samuel  Baker's  travels,  and  both  he 
and    Lad)    Baker   were   \<r\    kindly   received   at 
1  amden    Pla< 

The  winter  had  slipped  away,  and  we  were  all 
planning  a  large  party  and  luncheon  ^n  board  a 
steam   launch   for  the  boat   race,  which  that  year 


3°  3 


MY   MEMOIRS 

was,  I  fancy,  to  take  place  on  the  13th  day  of 
April.  My  father,  who  had  for  a  long  time  been 
in  delicate  health,  was  not  so  well,  so  my  letters 
said,  but  the  English  newspapers  were  giving 
rather  alarming  accounts — I  was  preparing  to  go 
to  Paris,  when  I  received  a  letter,  saying  my 
father  was  very  much  better,  and  there  was  no 
occasion  for  my  presence.  I  still  was  undecided, 
feeling  half  inclined  to  ignore  the  advice  and  go 
and  see  for  myself.  I  sent  a  telegram  and  heard 
he  was  better.  This  was  Tuesday,  the  9th  of 
April.  On  Wednesday  about  eleven  o'clock  I 
got  a  telegram  saying  my  father  had  died  that 
morning  at  nine  o'clock. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  speak  of  my  sorrow — 
nor  will  I  accuse  any  one.  Mr.  Garden  thought 
that  I  was  not  in  a  frame  of  mind  to  go  to  Paris. 
It  was  alas!  too  late.  He  strongly  urged  my 
remaining  in  London  and  letting  him  go  without 
me.  I  could  not  bear  to  do  this,  and  decided  to 
see  the  children  at  Redisham  before  crossing  to 
France.  I  came  here,  arriving  by  the  last  train, 
and  was  forced  to  leave  to  catch  the  night  boat 
from  Dover  the  next  day.  I  was  after  all  prevented 
going.  When  I  reached  London  I  was  feeling 
so  ill  I  had  to  let  Mr.  Garden  go  alone.  I  cannot 
describe  my  solitude.  I  could  not  help  thinking 
that  I  might  have  had  a  line,  a  word  of  sympathy 
from  the  Empress,  the  only  person  of  the  family 
in  England.  None  came,  but  knowing  what  had 
3°4 


THE    PRIN(  E    [MPERIAL 

been  d<  >ne  in  ca  r  '  Lti\  es   I   u 

irtain  a   Ma  oild  be  said  at  Chislehurst  on 

the  day  of  the  funeral.      No  words 
what  I  felt  on  being  told  that  the  Empress  \s 
lunching   at    Marl;  h    House    with    a  lar 

party  of  guests  invite  1  to  meet  some  foreign 
Prim  e.  This  at  the  very  hour  of  the  funeral  service 
in  Paris.  It  was  the  crowning  blow.  I  was 
wound    1  to  t  irt.     Such  public  di  :ct  to 

the  dead — such  disregard  for  the  living.  Yet 
the  Em]  Eugenie  is  one  of  the  most  devout, 

one  of  the  most  fervent  of  Catholics.  With  her, 
religion,  as  with  most  Spaniards,  is  rapturous, 
exalted  fanaticism.  To  hurt,  to  wound,  to  crush 
those  over  whom  you  have  power?  She  was  the 
Empress — the  mother,  as  we  hoped,  of  our  future 
Emperor.  From  that  day  to  this  no  mention  of 
what   I   am  relating  ha  r  passed  my  lips.      It 

has  been  buried  in  my  heart  during  all  these  long 
irs.  If  I  could  have  cried  my  indignation  to 
the  world  I  might  perhaps  have  felt  less  bitter. 
Nevertheless,  let  me  say  that  the  Empress 
Eugenie  has  many  great  and  noble  qualities. 
Otherwise  how  could  she  have  so  endeared  herself 
to  the  Emperor,  who  trusted  her  implicitly,  and 
gained  over  him  the  influence  which  carried  us 
to  our  ruin2  With  the  Empress  everything  is 
impulse-.  She  is  always  swayed  by  the  feeling  of 
the  moment.  She  can  be  most  generous  to  a 
fallen  foe.     She  forgives  with  admii  I     '  ■  ir- 

u  3°5 


MY   MEMOIRS 

ance  and  sweetness  an  injury  done  her  by  one  she 
loves.  She  can  be  gracious  and  fascinating  as  no 
one  else  when  she  chooses.  She  can  acknowledge 
an  error,  make  an  apology,  say  mea  culpa  with 
infinite  charm.  I  am  going  to  tell  two  instances 
of  her  enviable  power  of  humiliating  herself. 

M.  Achille  Fould  was  Prime  Minister.  At 
this  time  the  Empress  was  present  at  all  Cabinet 
Councils  held  at  the  Tuileries  in  the  Salle  des 
Conseils.  On  the  day  of  which  I  am  speaking 
some  very  important  political  question  was  under 
discussion.  The  Empress  was  more  than  usually 
excited.  Without  reflecting,  allowing  her  feelings 
to  get  the  better  of  her  prudence,  she  addressed 
M.  Fould  in  a  tone  and  manner  which  he  con- 
sidered offensive.  He  left  the  room,  and  im- 
mediately afterwards  sent  in  his  resignation.  The 
moment  was  a  critical  one  ;  any  change  of  minis- 
try would  in  all  probability  have  occasioned  most 
serious  results.  It  would,  of  course,  be  interest- 
ing if  I  could  say  what  the  question  was  ;  but  that 
belongs  to  history,  and  I  could  not  trust  my 
memory  sufficiently  to  mention  it  in  memoirs. 
The  Emperor  was  greatly  disturbed,  what  was  to 
be  done  ?  M.  Fould  refused  to  remain  in  office. 
Neither  the  Emperor  nor  his  colleagues  could 
persuade  him  to  overlook  this  public  offence* 
Everything  was  at  sixes  and  sevens  when  the 
Empress  herself  came  to  the  rescue.  Nobly  sacri- 
ficing her  own  pride,  she  wrote  a  most  charming 
306 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

noteto  M.  Fould,  asking  his  forgn  ;,  and  hum- 

bling herself  to  request  as  a  personal  favour  and 
token  of  his  pardon  that  he  would  withdraw  his 
ignation.      He  answered  her  appeal,  thanking 
her,  and  at  once  b<  I  ol  the  Emperor  that  1 

might  retain  his  portfol 

I  admired  the  Empre  s  for  this  act,  the  more 
so  that  I  did  not  feel  quite  sure  I  should  have 
had  the  courage  so  to  lower  my  pride.  Again, 
wh<-n  Regent,  the  Empress  was  wrongly  informed 
as  to  a  certain  person  in  an  official  position  of 
some  importance  in  one  of  the  departments. 
With  a  stroke  of  her  pen,  and  by  telegraphic 
dispatch,  she  revoked  him.  The  accusation  had 
been  that  he  was  acting  the  part  of  a  traitor.  The 
unfortunate  man,  who  was  entirely  devoted  to  the 
Imperial  cause,  was  struck  with  horror  at  this 
sudden  blow  :  we  were  told  that  his  hair  became 
white  in  one  night.  Years  after,  at  Camden 
PI  ice,  in  1S74,  on  the  occasion  of  the  coming  of 
age  of  the  Prince  Imperial  on  his  eighteenth 
birthday,  the   Empress  ordered  that  an  invitation 

he    sent    to    M.    ,    and    before    hundreds    of 

Frenchmen  assembled,  who  had  come  over  to 
greet  tin-  Prince,  she  went  up  to  him  and  pub- 
licly made  amende  honorable  for  what  slu:  had 
clone,  acknowledging,  I  believe,  that  she  had  in 
haste  misjudged  him  and  committed  an  act  ot 
cruel  injustice  which  she  deeply  regretted,  or 
something  to  this  effect.      1  was  not  near  enoi 

U   2  J07 


MY   MEMOIRS 

to  hear  the  actual  words,  nor  should   I  perhaps 
remember  accurately. 

Achille  Fould,  Minister  of  Finance,  was  much 
favoured    at   one    time  at   Court.     He  took   ad- 
vantage of  his  position  to  give  himself  airs  and 
behave  in    a    most    ridiculously    patronizing  way 
to  the    Emperor's    family.      I    remember   at   the 
marriage  ceremony  of  the  Emperor,  Fould  coming 
into  the  so-called  salon  de  famille,  where  all  the 
Princes  and  Princesses  of  the  family  as  well  as 
all  the  Ministers  and  dignitaries  of  the   Empire 
awaited  the  entrance  of  Napoleon  and  his  bride. 
He  seemed  himself  to  want  to  claim  the  dignity 
of  Majesty,   bowing  graciously  to  right  and  left 
and  offering  his  hand  to  some  of  the  more  highly 
favoured.      He  stopped  to  speak  to  my  father  and 
held  out  his  hand  with  a  very  condescending  air. 
The  Prince  only  shrugged  his  shoulders,  saying  : 
"  Pass  on,  I  never  give  my  hand  to  such  as  you." 
Fould,   somewhat  surprised,  hesitated  and  asked 
for  an  explanation ;  but  the  Prince,  not  being  of 
a  very    enduring  nature,   said:     "Pass    on,    and 
quickly.     Take   care  that  you  do  not  make  me 
repeat   it."     The    Emperor   wrote   to   my  father 
remonstrating  with  him  and  complaining  that  he 
had  ill-treated  one  of  his  Ministers  at  the  wedding. 
The  Prince  replied  that  to  oblige  the   Emperor 
and    avoid    offending    him  in    future,    he    would 
refrain   from    being  present    at  the   Tuileries  on 
official   occasions.     The   Emperor  did  all  in   his 
308 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

power  to  make  m\  father  see  things  in  a  different 
light,  but  failed.  All  the  Prince  answered  was: 
"I  will  obey  and  come  to  the  Tuileries,  but  not 
even  you,  Sire,  can  induce  me  t<>  shake  hands 
with  a  man   I  de  »]  »i 

Like  most  persons  who  have  experienced  the 
world's    reverses   and    vicissitudes,    the    Empress 
Eugenie  yielded  to  a  belief   in  omens  and  super- 
stitions.    Sin- wore  a  beautiful  emerald.     Where  it 
came  from,  or  who  gave  it  her,   I  never  knew,  but 
after  the  death  of  the    Emperor  and   the    Prince, 
she   became  very  superstitious  about  it.      She  did 
not  wish  to  dispose  of  it,  yet  she  did   not  care  to 
keep  it  in  her  possession.      My  sister  said,  "Oh, 
give  it  to  me  ;    I  am  not  in  the  least  superstitious." 
The  Empress,  1  believe,  hesitated  anil  refused,  so 
certain  did  she:  feel  that  the  stone  brought  ill-luck. 
She,  however,  yielded  to  persuasion  and  14'ave  the 
emerald.     Little  more  than  a  year  elapsed  when 
my  sister  lost  her  only  daughter,  a  lovely  girl  of 
thirteen,  carried  oil  in  a  few  days  by  malignant 
fever.      Most   people  dislik         lis  on  account  of 
the  evil   influence  they  are  supposed  to  have  on 
the  lives  of  those  who  wear  them.     The  will  of 
my  grandmother,  the  Queen  of  Naples,  brought 
me  the  gift  of  two  bracelets — one  a  wide  band  of 
black  and  white  enamelled  snakes  holding  a  cameo 
ol    my   grandfather,   the  other  a  plain  gold   band 
with   a   huge   opal    in   the  centre. 

Snakes  as  well  as  opals  are  said  to  be  unluck)  . 

309 


MY   MEMOIRS 

The  snake  bracelet,  however,  I  was  allowed  to 
keep,  but  the  opal  was  immediately  sold  by  my 
father's  orders.  I  have  often  wondered  what 
influence  these  doubly  unlucky  gifts  have  had  on 
my  life.  While  I  am  on  the  topic  of  opals  and 
superstitions,  I  must  relate  one  more  instance. 
After  my  mother's  death,  among  the  few  things 
sent  me  was  a  ring  with  three  opals,  a  large  one 
in  the  centre  and  a  smaller  one  on  either  side, 
with  a  circle  of  black  enamel  round  the  ring.  I 
was  foolishly  annoyed  that  this  ring  should  have 
been  selected  to  send  to  me.  One  afternoon  in 
London,  a  year  later,  the  spring  of  1880,  Mrs. 
Waldo  Sibthorpe — a  friend  of  Lady  North's  whom 
I  often  met — came  to  see  me,  and  in  our  chat  over 
our  cup  of  tea  I  told  her  of  the  ring.  She  said, 
"  Do  give  it  me  ;  I  should  so  like  to  have  it." 
After  discussing  my  feeling  that  it  might  bring 
her  ill-luck  and  my  unwillingness  to  run  the  risk, 
I  allowed  myself  to  be  persuaded.  She  carried  off 
the  ring  in  triumph.  From  that  time  misfortune 
seemed  to  pursue  her.  For  years  now  she  has 
been  an  invalid.  No  one  knows  how  she  has 
suffered  ;  no  one  sees  her.  Two  or  three  nurses  are 
in  constant  attendance.  Before  falling  ill  she  had, 
I  believe,  three  deaths  in  her  family — her  father, 
her  mother,  and  her  husband. 

How   absurd  these   superstitions    seem !    Yet 
one  cannot  help  thinking  that  certain  stones,  like 
certain  dates,  are  unlucky  to  different  people. 
310 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

I  spent  the  summer  of  i  ii   R<  im,  with 

the  exception  of  paying  one  or  two  short  visits. 
Id  the  autumn  we  had  some  shooting  parties  and 

house  party  at  Christmas.  I  went  to  town 
during  the  winter  and  spring  ol  1879,  staying  at 
Claridge's.  I  saw  a  good  deal  of  Prince  Louis 
Lucien  and  we  went  several  times  to  Camden 
Place  together.  The  war  was  the  one  topic  there 
as  it  was  two  years  ago — the  war  with  the  Zulus- 
war  that  cost  France  and  us  one  life  worth  more 
than  the  thousands  that  have  been  cruelly  sacrifi 
in  this  South  African  War,  that  has  lasted  nearly 
two  years.  As  I  write  these  lines,  fune  i.  1902, 
I  hear  peace  has  been  declared  to  London  by  the 
Lord  Mayor,  from  the  balcony  of  the  Mansion 
1 1<  >use. 

The-  Prince  Imperial  was  determined  to  take 
part  in  the  Zulu  War.  lie  was  tired  of  an  idle 
life  .it  Camden  Place  ;  tired  of  waiting,  longing  to 

doing  something,  longing  to  show  them  in 
France  that  he  was  a  soldier  and  worth}'  to  be 
their  Emperor.  In  the  first  moment  of  surprise 
when  his  wish  was  communicated  to  the  Empress 
she  opposed  it  violently.  Soon,  however,  whethi  r 
by  the  Prince's  persuasive  powers  or  by  her  own 
changeable  mood — who  can  say? — she  became 
more  eager  than  the  Prince  hims<  The  Duke 
of  Cambridge  demurn  lie  said  the  responsi- 
bility   WOuld    he    tOO    great the    presence    of    the 

Prince  would  create  anxieties  ami  difficulties  for 


MY   MEMOIRS 

Lord  Chelmsford.  The  Empress  and  the  Prince 
sought  the  Queen,  and  it  was  by  Queen  Victoria's 
express  permission  that  the  Prince  was  allowed  to 
join  the  troops  leaving  for  Zululand.  It  was  said 
that  the  Queen  wished  to  give  the  Prince  an 
opportunity  of  distinguishing  himself.  M.  Rouher, 
chief  of  the  Imperialist  party,  came  on  wings  to 
Chislehurst  to  prevent  so  mad  a  thing.  Alas ! 
he  was  over-ruled. 

It  was  then  proposed  that  our  Prince  should 
be  accompanied  by  thirty  young  soldiers,  many 
his  own  friends  with  whom  he  had  been  brought 
up.  My  nephew,  Prince  Joachim  Murat,  Conneau, 
Corvisart,  Bourgoing,  all  his  own  age,  would  have 
defended  him  with  their  lives.  The  Empress  de- 
clined. She  said  if  her  son  was  to  go  to  the  war 
it  must  be  alone  like  any  other  soldier,  trusting 
himself,  giving  himself,  to  England.  General 
Fleury,  among  others,  was  eloquent  in  putting 
before  the  Empress  that  the  Prince  belonged  to 
France — that  he  had  no  right  to  risk  his  life. 
Nothing  availed.     The  Prince  was  sent  alone. 

M.     Rouher,     who    had    been    one    of    the 

principal     agents    in    creating     for    the    Prince 

Imperial  the   false  position  which  made   his  life 

at   Camden   Place  so  painful  a  one,   now   knelt, 

and  prayed  the  Prince,  using  every  argument  in 

his  power  to  induce  him  to  abandon  his  project. 

The  Prince  replied  that  the  Queen  had  his  word, 

and  that,  having  asked  a  favour,   he  would   not 
312 


THE    PRINCE    [MPERIAL 

break    his    promi  I    am    told    that    General 

Fleury's  Mi  left  to  be  published  after  the 

death  of  the  Empress,  will  throw  light  on  all 
these  questions.  1  wonder  if  they  will  explain 
the  parsimony  which  her  Majesty  exerci  I 
towards  her  son.  It  is  certain  that  the  Prince 
constantly  so  short  of  money  that  he  was 
forced  to  refuse  to  join  h  t   Woolwich 

on  many  occasions,  being  unable  to  pay  his  share 
of  expenses.      I    remember   during    one    of   my 

visits  to  town  being  told  by  Madame  13 the 

following — 

She  said  she  had  dined  the  day  before  with 
leral  Fleury,  with  whom  she  was  most 
intimate — that  he  deplored  the  position  almost 
of  penury  in  which  the  Prince  lived.  lie  said 
that  a  luncheon  was  given  by  the  Prince  to 
severed  guests,  himself  among  the  number — that 
when  the  account  was  brought  the  Prince  saw 
that  it  was  much  higher  than  he  had  anticipated, 
and  not  having  sufficient  money  by  one  or  two 
sovereigns,  turned  to  thi  I  r<  neral  and  asked  if  he 
would  be  his  banker.  The  luncheon  was  in  the 
public  room  at  the  St.  fames —now  the  Berkeley. 
All  those  who  lived  more  or  less  at  Court 
under  the  Second  Empire  knew  that  General 
Fleury,  so  devoted  to  the  Emperor,  was  con- 
stantly at  variance  with  the  Empress.  After  the 
Emperor's  death  the  General  made  a  claim  tor 
payment    for   some    horses    he    had    bought    for 


MY   MEMOIRS 

H.M.,  which  caused  some  displeasure.  He  also 
at  one  time,  later  on,  urged  that  the  Prince 
should  be  allowed  a  house  in  town  for  a  season — 
himself  remaining  with  the  Prince  and  seeing  that 
everything  was  on  a  proper  footing,  such  as 
befitted  the  Prince's  position  in  London  en 
garfon.      But  the  appeal  was  in  vain. 

The  question  of  the  Prince's  equipment  had 
been  a  very  serious  one.  General  Fleury  was  of 
opinion  that  the  first  makers  in  England  should 
receive  orders  for  saddles,  bridles  and  everything 
that  could  be  required.  Money  was,  or  should 
have  been,  of  no  importance.  The  arguments 
and  discussions  on  the  subject  tired  the  Prince. 
The  Empress  thought  that  the  Stores  could 
supply  ready-made  saddlery  at  much  less  cost. 
She  had  most  probably  been  impressed  by  some 
of  those  around  her  that  the  ready-made  goods 
were  in  every  respect  equal  to  those  suggested 
by  General  Fleury  and  others.  Therefore  the 
Prince's  entire  outfit  was  bought  at  the  Stores. 
My  readers  will  soon  see  why  I  insist  on  these 
details,  seemingly  of  little  interest.  The  Prince 
always  did  in  every  way  just  as  the  Empress 
wished.  Could  he  have  given  a  greater  proof  of 
this  than  the  will  he  left  behind  him — of  which, 
at  all  events,  the  political  part  was  dictated  if  not, 
as  some  affirm,  written  for  and  copied  by  him  ? 
The  few  lines  of  legacies  added  the  night  before 
he  left  Chislehurst  alone  emanated  from  the 
3*4  • 


THE    PRINCE    [MPERIAL 

Prince   himself.      No  one  who   knew  the    Prii 

ild  believe  him  capable  of  - 
ing    sentiments   and    naming    a   su<  >r   which 

would,   and    must    fatally    disunite    a    party    and 

eparate    a    father    and    son.     The    heir    to    the 

dynasty,    failing    the     Prince     Imperial,    was    by 

lit  of  succession,  the  Prince  Napoleon.  Could 
the  Prince  Imperial  have  wished  to  set  aside  the 
father  in  favour  of  the  son?  He,  so  horn 
just,  so  true  in  every  action  ^\  his  too  short  life; 
he  who  worshipped  his  father  and  had  been  the 
Emperor's  pupil  in  all  political  matters?  Comte 
d'HeTisson  says  in  one  of  his  books  that  two  wills 
written  out  by  M.  Rouher,  the  political  leader  of 
the  party,  were  handed  to  the  Prince.  Seeing 
that  he  must  choose  one  or  the  other  he  selected 
the  one  he  considered  the  more  moderal   . 

Putting  everything  else  aside,  the  Prince 
Imperial  knew  that  he  had  no  right  whatever 
to  designate  a  successor.  The  Prince  Napoleon 
was  de  facto  rightful  heir  to  the  throne  of  France 
— if  we  ignore  divine  right! 

The  Prince  never  wavered  in  his  decision. 
The  die  was  cast  .  .  .  irrevocably.  M.  Quentin 
Bauchart  tells  in  his  book,  Fits  d'Empereur,  that 
one  day  a  short  time  before  his  departure,  the 
Prince    and    his    friend    Conneau    were    walking 

'•tier  when  suddenly,  as  if  inspired,  the 
Prince  stopped,  and  looking  up  at  a  radiant  sky 
said  hall  aloud,  as  it  to  himself,  "  1  his  is  perhaps 


MY   MEMOIRS 

my  last    Spring."     The   evening   before   leaving 

Camden  Place  the  Prince  requested  that  all  the 

servants  in  the  place — many  of  whom  had  been 

with  him  in  France — should  assemble  in  the  hall, 

that  he  might  bid  them  good-bye.      He  passed 

along,  shaking  hands  with  each  and  saying  a  few 

words  of  farewell.     They  were  all  agitated,  and 

most  of  them  in  tears.     The    Prince  alone  was 

cheerful,   encouraging    the  old    servants    he    had 

known    nearly    all    his    life — bidding    them    look 

forward  to  his  return.     I   was  not  present,  but  I 

heard  all   I  am  relating  from  different  persons  at 

the    time.     This   month   of   February    I    was    in 

Paris.      I     had    been    rather    anxious   about    my 

mother's  health,  and  a  friend  of  mine  who  had 

gone  over   with    Lady  North   and   her  daughter 

en  route  for  Nice,  wrote  me,  saying   from  what 

he  heard,  he  thought  I  was  left  in  ignorance  of 

the  serious   illness  of  the   Princess,  and  advised 

my    coming  immediately.      I    got    this    letter  on 

Saturday,  the  8th  of  February,  and  left  by   the 

first   available    boat,    wiring    for    my   brother    to 

meet  me,  as  Mr.  Garden  was  prevented  leaving 

with  me.      I   heard  on  my  arrival  that  there  was 

little,  if  any,  hope.     On  Monday  my  mother  died. 

I  cannot  write  all  the  sadness  of  her  sufferings — 

it  was  awful.      I  cannot  dwell  on  these  souvenirs, 

but  will  only  say  that  in  consequence  we  were  all 

unable   to   be  in    England    at    the    time    of   the 

Prince's  departure  for  South  Africa.     The  night 
316 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

before  he  left  there  was  a  large  dinner  party  at 
1  .    '. '       :  for  relations  and  friends. 

My  uncle,     Louis   Lucien,   wl  nt, 

often  told  me  about  ih  a  dinner,  and  his  praises  of 
the  Prince  were  without  end.  1  [e  s  lid  his  anxiety 
for  him  on  this  perilous  expedition  was  ver\  great. 
I  I-  mentioned  how  touching  on  this  evenin  »  were 
the  Prince's  attentions  to  his  mother,  with  what 
and  spirit  he  endeavoured  to  make  the  last 
dinner  cheerful  —a  difficult  task  when  the  depn 
sion  of  each  heart  shows  itself  so  plainly. 

It  was  not,  I  believe,  till  twelve  o'clock  that  the 
Prince  sought  his  mom,  glad  to  1".-  alone,  glad  to 
be  able  to  think.  The  night  was  a  dull  and  rainy 
one,  not  unlike  the  night  of  years  ago,  his  first 
night  at  Camden  Place.  M.  <  hientin  Bauchart 
in  his  book  tells  us  with  infinite  charm  of  imagina- 
tion all  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  the  Prince, 
in  the  few  hours  of  solitude  of  that  night.  He 
tells  us  that  the  Prince  reviewed  his  whole  life, 
saw  it  all  pass  before  him  as  in  a  panorama,  saw 
himself  riding  up  the  Champs  Elysfe,  passing 
through  the  triumphal  arch,  acclaimed  by  the 
multitude — heard  once  more  the  cries  <>l  "Vive 
I'Empereur!  Vive  le  Prince  Imperial!'  Saw 
himself  the  hero  of  a  short-lived  hour  at  Saar 
briii  k  saw  himself  flying  for  his  life,  after  Sedan 
— his    arrival    in    England    after   the   conflicting 

1   It  will  be  remembered  th  dnol   iccompany 

the  Army  to  Sedan. 


MY   MEMOIRS 

dispatches  from  the  Emperor  on  the  one  hand  and 
the  Empress  on  the  other — his  meeting  with  his 
mother — the  arrival  of  the  Emperor  at  Dover 
after  the  signature  of  the  Versailles  treaty.  His 
nine  years  at  Chislehurst — melancholy  years  of 
exile — the  agony  of  his  arrival  from  Woolwich 
too  late  to  see  the  Emperor  alive — his  rush  to  the 
chamber  of  death,  madly  hoping  to  catch  a  last 
breath,  a  sigh  !  then  his  coming  of  age — the 
brightness  of  the  scene,  the  gay  crowd,  the 
thousands  of  French  voices  lifted  in  cries  of 
"  Vive  l'Empereur  !  "  and  through  it  all  the  voice 
in  his  heart  whispering,  "  Oh,  that  the  dead  could 
hear !  could  see !  .  .  . ';  Turning  from  the  window 
where  he  had  been  standing,  he  sits  at  his  writing- 
table,  his  one  lamp  lighting  the  room  :  leaning  his 
head  on  his  hands  he  tries  to  collect  his  thoughts :  to 
shut  the  dream  from  his  mind  :  to  face  what  is,  not 
what  has  been — taking  his  pen  he  writes  his  will. 
He  leaves  the  fortune  left  by  the  Princess  Bacciochi 
— about  £  1 2,000  a  year,  which  by  some  reason  he 
was  not  to  enjoy  for  several  years  to  come — to  his 
mother,  and  legacies  to  four  of  his  young  friends 
of  "100  mille  francs  chaque,"  and  other  lega- 
cies. He  recommends  his  cousin,  Prince  Victor 
Napoleon,  to  the  Empress — then  throwing  down 
his  pen,  he  prays.  .   .  . 

Perhaps,  who  can  say  that  he  loses  heart  in 
these  moments  of  despair — at  bidding  adieu  to  all 
318 


THE    PRINCE    [MPER1AL 

heretofoi  loved,  going  forth  alone  to  the  great 

Unknown.  .  .  .   Perhaps  a   presentiment  ol    evil 

falls  upon  him.  .  .  .  Perhaps  at  last,  the  fully  ol 
his  act  overwhelms  him.  Perhaps,  hi-  rememl 
St.  Helena  .  .  .  too  late!  He,  a  Napoleon,  has 
promi  ;ed  to  be  a  soldier  of  the  '  )ueen  !  I  ■  • 
for  England!  To  wear  the  English  uniform! 
You  see,  like  M.  Bauchart,  I  am  letting  my 
imagination  wander— and  here  1  must  stop,  as  I 
am  sure  that  no  such  thought  us  the  last  expressed 
was  ever  the  Prince's.  Such  might,  such  would 
have  been  my  feelings  had  1  been  in  his  place — 
but  he  was  the  beloved  pupil  of  the  Emperor,  who 
devoted  the  two  years  of  his  exile  at  Oiislehurst 
to  the  Prin<  e's  i  ducation  politically,  and  to  forming 
the  Prince's  ideas  and  fashioning  his  mind  according 
to  his  own.  The  Prince's  one  ambition  was  to  re- 
semble the  Emperor  in  every  way.  He  even  tried 
to  copy  his  walk.  .  .  .  The  father's  love  of  England 
lived  again  in  the  son,  and,  speaking  oi  love,  was 
there  not  another  English  love  which  weighed  in 
the  balance?  Was  there  not  the  Princess  Beatrice? 
But  love  is  too  delicate  a  subject  to  be  touched 
upon  lightly,  so  saying  good-bye  to  conjectures  I 
return  to  fa<  i ;. 

The  dawn  of  February  the  27th  saw  the 
Prince  en  route  for  Southampton  where  he  em- 
harked  for  Natal — embarked  in  a  campaign  to 
fight  and  deprive  of  their  liberty  a  people  who 
had  once  belonged  to  his  rai         It  is  probably  not 


MY  MEMOIRS 

well  known  that  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope  belonged 
to  Holland  and  was  taken  from  King  Louis  by  the 
English  at  the  time  when  the  Prince's  grand- 
father was  King  of  the  Netherlands. 

The  Prince  took,  I  believe  three  horses  with 
him.  One  died  during  the  voyage  or  was  in  some 
way  disabled :  another  died  soon  after  his  arrival 
in  Natal.  He  bought  two  horses  almost 
immediately  on  landing,  one,  a  grey,  bore  the 
name  of  Fate — a  quiet  animal  without  vice,  but 
restless  and  difficult  to  mount  if  other  horses  were 
moving  on.  Strangely,  this  was  the  horse  the 
Prince  was  riding  on  the  day  of  his  death — the 
day  when  Lieutenant  Carey,  saying  he  knew 
the  country  well,  was  sent  to  select  a  new  en- 
campment, and  the  Prince  asked  and  obtained 
permission  to  accompany  him. 

So  much  has  been  written,  so  much  was  said 

at  the  time  that  every  one  knows  all  that  I  could 

tell    of   the    sad    event    that    followed.     Comte 

d'Hdrisson,  in  his  book  on  the  Prince,  reminds  us 

that  history  repeats  itself  in  the  Napoleon  dynasty. 

The  two  Emperors,  Napoleon  I  and  Napoleon  III, 

found  their  death  on  English  soil.     Of  the  two  sons 

of  the  Imperial  race,  the  Duke  of  Reichstadt  and 

the  Prince  Imperial,  one  it  is  said  died  poisoned 

in  Austria,  the  other  by  treachery  in  South  Africa  ; 

both  far  from  France  in  stranger-land  ;  leaving  a 

problem  for  future  generations  to  solve.     It  was 

published  in  the  English  papers  of  the  day  that 
320 


THE    PRIN(  E    IMPERIAL 

in  ;i  I  .     pital,  a  Communard,  when  dyin 

confessed  that  he  had  b  en  iven  "50  mille 
francs"  by  the  French  Government  to  go  to 
Zululand  and  bribe  those  round  the  Prince  to 
tray  and  entrap  him,  and  that  it  was  thus  that 
the  unfortunate  Prince  W  I  to  his  death  :   that 

something  of  the  kind  had  been  proposed  before 
he  left    En    land,   but    that   their  victim   was    t< 
closely  guarded. 

The;  Prince  Imperial  left  England  with  his 
faithful  French  valet,  Uhlmann,  and  two  English 
grooms  recommended  to  him  by  some  military 
man  in  London.  On  a  certain  morning  he  ac- 
companied a  small  reconnoitring  party  into  the 
bush  where  they  made  a  halt.  While  they  were 
dismounted  they  were  surprised  by  a  body  ot 
Zulus  and  surrounded.  The  Prince  was  marvel- 
lously skilful  in  vaulting  into  the  saddle  without 
touching  the  stirrup,  even  when  his  horse  was 
movin  This  he  no  doubt  attempted  on  the 
fatal  day,  but  owing  to  a  twist  or  strain  from 
which  lie  had  been  suffering  he  probably  failed, 
but  succeeded  in  putting  his  left  foot  in  the 
stirrup.  Ah  he  threw  his  leg  over,  the  stirrup 
leather  gave  way,  broke  in  two,  and  he  iell  back- 
wards. ...  I  ^a\v  the  saddle  and  examined  it. 
It  bore  the  traces  of  what  I  have  tried  to  de- 
scribe. I'll--  leather  was  cut  or  deeply  scratched 
all  across  the  saddle  by  the  Prince's  spur  as  he 
fell  back.     Now,  when  too  late,  it  was  recognized 

x  3  -  > 


MY  MEMOIRS 

and  bitterly  deplored,  that  had  the  Prince's  equip- 
ment been  of  different  make  he  might  have  es- 
caped, although  alone,  abandoned,  and  unaided, 
the  terrible  death  that  awaited  him.1 

I  was  not  surprised  that  the  Prince  had  wished 
to  stop  and  sketch.  It  was  a  pastime  of  which  he 
was  particularly  fond  and  he  did  water  colours 
rather  prettily :  a  talent  he  no  doubt  inherited 
from  the  Emperor,  whose  principal  amusement  it 
was  during  his  captivity  at  Ham.  In  1839,  when 
returning  to  the  United  States  from  Florence  after 
the  death  of  the  Queen,  his  mother,  my  father 
obtained  permission  of  the  French  Government 
to  visit  his  cousin,  Prince  Louis  Napoleon  ;  he 
brought  back  a  charming  souvenir,  a  small  land- 
scape painted  by  the  Prince.  It  was  mounted 
in  tortoiseshell — a  card  case  and  memorandum 
book  combined.  It  took  my  six-year-old  fancy 
and  I  have  never  forgotten  it,  though  I  cannot 
remember  seeing  it  after  we  left  America. 

It  was  to  Lord  Sidney  that  the  Queen  confided 
the     saddest    of    all    missions — to    acquaint    the 

1  This  statement  is  confirmed  by  the  late  Dr.  Archibald 
Forbes,  who  was  in  Zululand  as  a  war  correspondent  and 
knew  the  Prince  Imperial  well,  and  who  wrote — 

"No  doubt  he  made  a  desperate  effort,  trusting  to  the 
strength  of  his  grasp  on  the  band  of  leather  crossing  the 
pommel  from  holster  to  holster.  That  band  tore  under  his 
strain.  I  inspected  it  next  day  and  found  it  no  leather  at  all, 
but  paper  faced.  So  that  the  Prince's  fate  really  was  attribut- 
able to  shoddy  saddlery." — Century  Magazine,  June  1893. 
322 


THE    PRINCE    [MPERIAL 

Emj  ress  I  •  enie  of  the  death  of  her  only  child, 
the  Prince  Imperial  of  France.  On  arriving  at 
Chislehurst,  Lord  Sidney  was  received  by  the 
Duke  de  Bas  ino,  who,  on  hearing  the  news, 
asked  to  be  allowed  to  convey  to  the  Empress 
the  presence  of  Lord  Sidney  and  prepare  her 
for  the  dreadful  message  he  bore.  It  was  there- 
re  in  reality  the  Duke  de  Bassano  who  told 
the  poor  mother  of  her  loss. 

The  Empress  was  not  totally  unaware  that 
some  accident  had  happened  to  the  Prince.  A 
letter  had  come  early  in  the  morning  from  a  club 
fri  nd  to  Pietri,  who  was  away  on  a  holiday.  The 
Empress  opened  the  letter — she  scarcely  knew 
why  no  doubt  a  presentiment,  an  anxious  feel- 
ing  promoted  her.  The  letter  was  marked 
'  Immediate,"  and  had  been  sent  by  train  and 
taken  up  to  Camden  Place  l>y  a  railway  porter. 
So  it  was  that,  seeing  the  Duke  approach  her, 
she  cried,  "  You  have  bad  news  of  the  Prince — I 
know — I  will  start  at  once — I  am  getting  ready — 
giving  orders — we  leave  immediately  for  Cape 
lown."  In  her  precipitation  she  was  going  to 
ring  the   bell  to  send   h.r   her  women. 

Poor  Empress  !  she  had  not  -rasped,  she  could 
not  grasp,  the  truth.  The  Duke,  beside  himself 
with  grief,  summoned  all  his  courage  to  his  aid  and 
faltered  out  the  irrevocable  words,  "  Trop  tard 
Madame,  trop  tard."  Tin;  Empress  gave  one 
despairing  cry  .md  fell  in  a  dead  faint  at  his  feet. 

x  2  323 


MY  MEMOIRS 

As  far  as  I  remember,  this  was  on  Friday. 
On  Saturday,  by  the  earliest  train  I  could,  I  left 
for  London,  and  took  rooms  at  the  Albemarle 
Hotel.  My  sister  the  Duchess  de  Mouchy,  my 
brother  Prince  Murat — the  two  real  and  most 
devoted  friends  of  the  Empress  Eugenie,  who 
had  been  at  her  side  in  all  her  troubles  both 
before  and  after  our  downfall — had  already 
arrived  from  France.  They  came  over  by  the 
night  boat  and  went  on  to  Camden  Place. 
Before  the  next  day  all  the  hotels  round  me, 
Brown's,  the  Pulteney,  Claridge's,  were  full  of 
what  in  old  days  I  should  have  called  nos  intimes. 
The  Duchess  Malakoff  and  her  daughter  had 
rooms  at  the  Albemarle  just  above  me.  The 
Duchess  was  a  Spanish  woman,  a  very  old  friend 
of  the  Empress.  They  had  been  girls  together. 
It  was  to  her  friendship  that  Mile.  Pariega 
owed  her  marriage  with  Marshal  Pelissier, 
Duke  of  Malakoff.  Rather  a  rough  diamond, 
but  with  a  splendid  career  behind  him. 

Stephanie  Tascher  de  la  Pagerie  says,  "  Le 
titre  de  Duchesse  de  Malakoff  eut  ete  beau  s'il 
n'eut  fallu  devenir  la  femme  du  Marshal  Pelissier 
pour  y  avoir  droit." 

When  I  arrived  at  Camden  Place  I  was  in 
doubt  if  I  should  be  able  to  see  the  Empress. 
My  sister  and  Zizi  d'Arcos  were  the  only  two 
persons  who  had  been  allowed  access.  The 
poor  woman  had  neither  slept  nor  rested  and 
324 


THE    PRINCE    [MPERIAL 

scarcely  eaten  a  mouthful  since  the  terrible  n<\ 

had  reached  her.  Unfortunate  mother.  Her 
remorse  must  have  been  as  great  as  her  grief. 
I  pitied  her  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart. 
Could  a  greater  misfortune  have  befallen  her! 
1  em  conceive  no  deeper  sorrow  than  the  loss 
of  an  only  son,  and  such  a  son  as  the  Prince 
Imperial.  To  her  it  meant  (hath  to  every 
cherished   hope. 

Zizi  d'Arcos  was  another  one  of  those  most 
intimate  at  Court  although  she  had  no  official 
position.  Mrs.  Vaughan  brought  her  two  pretty 
daughters  to  Paris,  and  through  the  patronage 
of  the  Duke  de  Morny  and  Mme.  Le  Hon  had 
invitations  to  Court.  Zizi,  the  eldest,  became  a 
great  favourite  with  the  Kmpress,  who  conceived 
the  project  of  a  marriage  with  one  of  her  oldest 
friends  and  admirers — a  Spaniard,  Domingo 
d'Arcos.  Many  years  after  the  marriage,  about 
the  time  of  which  1  am  writing,  1  )omingo,  who  had 
been  in  a  very  critical  state  for  some  time,  went 
out  of  his  mind.  The  war  and  his  removal  to 
England  seemed  t<>  give  him  the  finishing  stroke 
and  be  the  torment  of  his  ravings,  lb:  died  in 
a  London  hotel,  I  think  Brown's,  I  cannot  be 
quite  sur  Every  one  spoke  of  the  devotion  ol 
his  wife.  Her  sister,  who  married  a  Vaughan,  a 
cousin,  could  not  find  words  to  express  Zizi's 
admirable  conduct  in  nursing  her  husband 
through   so  painful   an  illness;   people  were  much 


MY   MEMOIRS 

impressed.  She  was  welcomed  more  warmly 
than  ever  at  Chislehurst.  Zizi  and  her  sister 
usually  accompanied  the  Empress  to  Windsor, 
and  played  the  part  of  ladies-in-waiting  whenever 
their  services  were  required.  On  these  occa- 
sions the  "four  widows,"  as  those  on  duty  with 
the  Queen  called  them,  put  their  heads  together. 
They  had  a  great  deal  to  say,  and  the  Court 
looked  on  in  trembling  for  the  gale  that  usually 
followed.  At  Camden  Place  on  her  frequent 
visits  Mme.  d'Arcos  was  like  a  watch-dog, 
although  I  am  not  sure  that  she  always  slept 
on  the  mat  outside  her  mistress's  door. 

None  of  the  Empress's  dames  du  palais — 
twelve  in  number — followed  her  to  England. 
Most  of  them  belonged  more  or  less  to  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain.  Foremost  among  these 
were  Mme.  de  la  Bedoyere,  whose  arrival  in  a 
room  was  often  likened  by  the  Tuileries  set  to 
the  lighting  of  a  chandelier,  and  her  willowy 
sister  Mme.  de  la  Poeze,  daughters  of  the 
Marquis  de  la  Roche  Lambert,  more  noble  than 
rich.  The  emoluments  were  worth  accepting,  and 
they  lowered  their  pride  to  be  ladies-in-waiting 
at  the  Tuileries.  One  other  I  will  name — the 
Marquise  de  Cadore.  She  was  charming — so 
lovely  to  look  at.  We  were  always  delighted 
when  it  was  her  tour  de  sei^vice.  So  many  of  the 
household  of  the  Empress,  both  men  and  women, 

without  reason  made  themselves  perfectly  odious 
326 


*  & 


Till      I 

i 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

to  the   members  of  tin-   Emperor's  family.     One 
day  in  particular,  I  remember,  some  of  them 

more  ventun  iome  than  the  rest  (who  were  wi 
enough  to  confine  their  incivilities  to  the  younger 
members  such  as  myseli )  dared  to  be  discourte<  >us 
to  Princess  Marie  de  Bade,  Duchess  ol  Hamilton. 
She  wrote  asking  the  Emperor  to  come  and  si 
her.     She  afterwards  told  us  that  she  had  com 
plained  i  >f  the  disrespectful  attitude  of  the  entoura 
in  general  —and  she  added  that  it    the   Emperor 
chose   to  allow   his  family   to  be   put  under  the 
Empress's  slipper  she-,  tor  one,  had   no  intention 
of  submitting    to    such    treatment.       "  My    dear 
Marie,  what  would   you  have  me  do?"  exclaimed 
the  Emperor.     "  1  give  her  my  family  to  govern, 
as    I    cannot    give    her    the    State."      The    State 
followed,    however,    for    shortly    afterwards    the 
Empress  was  present  at  all  the  Cabinet  councils. 

What  a  fearful  revelation!  How  in  those 
hours  oi  solitude  and  anguish  she  must  have 
deplored  the  fatal  mistakes,  the  ill-judged  severity, 
the  desire  to  keep  all  authority  in  her  own  hands, 
both  political  and  at  home!  Her  very  affection 
and  anxiety  for  her  son  and  the  restoration  of  the 
Empire  led  her  to  exercise  over  him  a  control 
against  which  his  independent  spirit  was  con- 
stantly in  rebellion.  No  doubt  she  now,  too  late, 
realized  her  error — error  into  which  her  very  love 
had  betraj  ed  her. 

1  was  going  huh  to  town;   1  felt   1   could  not 

3-7 


MY   MEMOIRS 

trespass  on  the  heart-rending  misery  of  that 
hour.  Just  then  the  Empress  sent  my  sister  to 
fetch  me  to  her.  The  door  opened  and  shut,  we 
were  left  alone.  The  room  was  in  profound  dark- 
ness. It  was  a  trying  moment !  I  could  see 
only  to  grope  my  way  to  a  figure  seated  in  the 
middle  of  the  room  in  a  high  arm-chair  with  a 
bureau  table  alongside,  a  footstool  under  her  feet, 
and  a  large  rug  thrown  over  her.  This  was  what 
I  saw  when  my  eyes  became  accustomed  to  the 
clair  obscure.  I  went  forward  and,  kneeling,  kissed 
her  hand.  My  heart  was  full  of  sorrow  and  pity 
— such  utter  hopelessness,  such  anguish,  was  in 
every  feature  of  her  face,  in  every  movement  of 
her  hands,  in  the  few  words  she  spoke.  I  remained 
a  few  minutes  only ;  understanding  what  an 
effort  even  those  few  words  must  cause  her.  I 
could  be  of  no  use  to  her.  In  such  a  case  nothing 
could  be  of  any  avail,  vain  words  a  mockery, 
sympathy  almost  an  offence.  All  this  and  more 
I  felt  as  I  left  her  with  her  despair. 

The  next  day  I  returned  to  Redisham.  We 
had  a  long-standing  engagement  for  the  first  week 
of  the  July  meeting  at  Newmarket.  Mr.  Garden 
was  anxious  not  to  disappoint  our  friends,  as  a  suite 
of  rooms  had  been  reserved  for  us  at  the  Rutland 
Arms.  I  went  with  him,  but  was  careful  not  to 
show  myself  at  the  races  or  anywhere  in  public. 
So  the  week  was  rather  a  dull   one,  and   I  was 

not  sorry  when  it  came  to  an  end.  On  the  8th 
328 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

I  travelled  back  to  the  Albemarle   Hotel.     The 
funeral  ceremony  was  to  I         place  on  the  12th. 
My  youngest  brother,  Prince   Louis,  had  arriv 
from    Russia  and    was    staying   at  the    Pulteney. 
His  wife— in  ite  health — had  been  unable  to 

accompany  him.  We  went  to  Chislehurst  the 
next  morniner,  with  no  intention  <>t  seeing  the 
Empi  ut  to  hear  what  had  been  settled  about 

th(  tnonial  and  it'  we  were  to  1"-  at  Camden 

PI  m    the  previous  day  for  the  reception  oi 

the  o>rn  •<•  tYom  Woolwich.  We  learned  that 
our  presence  would  not  be  required  on  Friday 
the  1 ith. 

My  sister  told  me  that  the  Empress  thought 
of  nothing,  spoke  of  nothing,  but  the  Prince  and 
his  sufferings  during  the  African  campaign.  She 
never  inquired  as  to  any  of  the  arrangements  for 
the  return  and  reception  of  the  body,  nor  even 
asked  the  day  on  which  it  would  reach  England's 
shores.  The  only  wish  she:  expressed  was  that 
my  brother  Prince  Murat  should,  with  a  suite 
designated,  meet  the  0 r antes  ax  Portsmouth. 

Those  designated  to  accompany  11.11.  the 
Prince  Murat  were  I  I.I  I.  the  Prince  Charles 
Bonaparte,  the  Comte  Davilliers,  the  Martinis  tie 
Bassano,  the  Baron  de  Bourgoing,  the  Comte  de 
Turenne,  the  Vicomte  Aguado.  I  0  the  astonish- 
ment of  ever)  one,  General  Fleury,  so  intimately 
associated  with  the  Prince's  life,  more  especially 
during  his  exile,  was  not  designated   to  be  tidier 


MY   MEMOIRS 

at  Portsmouth  or  at  Woolwich  on  the  occasion  of 
the  ceremonial  of  identifying  the  body.  I  have 
already  said  that  the  General  was  not  a  favourite 
with  the  Empress.  On  many  occasions  he  had 
ventured  to  oppose  her  will  both  on  private  and 
political  questions.  General  Fleury  had  been  one 
of  the  first  to  come  over  from  France  to  put  him- 
self entirely  at  the  Empress's  commands,  and,  I 
heard,  felt  most  deeply  being  set  aside  and  allowed 
no  part  in  the  ceremonial.  I  suppose  some  observa- 
tion was  made  on  the  subject,  as  when  the  Queen 
entered  the  Chapelle  Ardente  on  the  day  of  the 
funeral,  General  Fleury  was  ordered  to  take  his 
place  with  other  generals  near  the  coffin.  All  the 
night  of  the  nth  the  coffin  was  guarded  by  officers 
of  the  household  or  relatives,  each  hour  the  guard 
being  relieved.  The  Duke  de  Mouchy  remained 
many  hours  with  the  dear  remains  of  our  lost  Prince, 
and  the  Empress  spent  nearly  all  night  kneeling 
in  prayer. 

The  dawn  of  Saturday  found  her  still  clinging 
to  the  coffin,  saying  between  her  sobs  :  "  Voila  tout 
ce  qui  me  reste  de  mon  fils  !  " 

The  opening  of  the  coffin  had  taken  place  at 
Woolwich.  The  features  of  the  poor  little  Prince 
were  so  disfigured  as  not  to  be  recognizable — one 
eye  was  gone  and  he  was  covered  with  wounds — 
seventeen,  I  believe — all  received  facing  the  foe. 
Was  it  the  Prince  ?  Who  could  be  sure  ?  Two 
things  only  proved  his  identity.  Dr.  Thomas 
33° 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

!  ms  u  is  present  at  the  opening  ol  the  coffin. 
I  [e  swore  to  the  teeth  he  had  filled,  to  the  mouth 
that    he  hil  attended  for  so  many  years.     The 

the  Prim  e  ha  1  on  his  left  side  was  there,  and 
md  proof  required.     When   quite   i 
boy  he  fell  from  a  trapeze  in  the  gymnasium  and 
hurt   his  side     A   large  abscess   formed,  and   an 
operation   became  n-  iry.     The  scar  left  was 

the  one  I  refer  i 

My  brother  was  so  overcome  during  the  exam- 
ination <>f  the  body  that  he  nearly  fainted,  and  had 
to  summon  .ill  his  courage  to  go  through  with  the 
painful  duty  imposed  upon  him  :  not  to  leave  the 
cottin  for  01  :ond  till  it  was  again  closed. 

The  dawn  of  the  i  2th  of  July  of  the  year  [879 
was  full  of  golden  light  and  sunshine,  seeming 
such  a  mockery  to  the  feeling  of  deep  sorrow  that 
invaded  my  heart  as  1  was  roused  from  my  sleep 
at  an  early  hour.  We  were  under  orders  to  be  at 
Camden  Place  before  the  arrival  of  the  Queen,  who 

due  at  10.15.  A  friend  of  Mr.  Garden's,  a 
Mrs.  Crawley,  was  anxious  to  get  into  the  grounds 
to  see  the  funeral  procession.  I  always  wonder 
sight  can  attract  any  one.  She  had  not 
been  able  to  get  a  ticket  of  admission,  and  I  had 
none  to  give  her.  I  did  the  only  thing  1  could 
dn,  which  was  to  pass  her  in  in  my  carriage.  At 
the  last  moment,  just  as  we  were  ready  to  start, 
it  was  observed  that  Mrs.  Crawley  (who  went  l>y 
the  distinguished   name  of  Teddydine)  had   not 

331 


MY   MEMOIRS 

understood  that  she  was  required  to  be  all  in  black. 
I  hastily  supplied  some  few  articles  of  mourning, 
but  Mr.  Garden's  gloves  had  to  be  requisitioned, 
as  mine  were  of  no  use  !  How  comic  her  hands 
looked !  I  could  not  help  laughing,  though  I  was 
in  no  humour  for  mirth. 

The  drive  from  London  to  Chislehurst  seemed 
paved  with  heads,  especially  as  we  drew  near  the 
latter  place.  At  the  stable  entrance  of  Camden 
Place  we  drew  up  to  put  our  passenger  out  before 
driving  to  the  house.  I  knew  I  was  late,  and  I 
was  getting  rather  nervous,  as  no  carriage  could 
pass  after  the  hour  at  which  the  Queen  was 
expected.  The  Prince  Napoleon,  his  two  sons,  his 
sister  the  Princess  Mathilde,  and  the  Princess 
Eugenie  Murat,  my  brother's  eldest  daughter, 
waited  in  a  small  drawing-room  overlooking  the 
front  of  the  house  reserved  for  the  reception  of 
the  Queen,  and  in  which  the  saddle  and  every- 
thing which  had  belonged  to  the  little  Prince  in 
Zululand  had  been  placed.  The  room  was 
literally  smothered  in  flowers — wreaths,  crosses, 
bouquets — and  the  floor  covered  with  roses.  As 
the  clock  marked  twenty  minutes  past  ten,  the 
Queen's  approach  was  signalled,  and  at  10.25 
the  Prince  Murat,  the  Duke  and  Duchess  de 
Mouchy,  the  generals  and  officers  of  the  Imperial 
household,  moved  forward  to  receive  her 
Majesty.  The  Queen  carried  an  immense  wreath, 
which  she  wished  herself  to  place  on  the  coffin. 
332 


THE    PRINi  E    [MPERIAL 

She  wa  >wed  by  Princess  Beatrice  bearing 

a  la  with  garlands 

of  violets  around  it — so  heavy  that  General 
Fleury,  I  think  it  was,  took  it  from  her  and 
handed  it  to  the  Duke  de  Mouchy,  who  advance 
with  her  to  where  the  Queen  was  standing  near 
the  catafalque,  which  was  raised  by  three  steps 
with  black  and  white  draperies.  An  English  fl 
was  thrown  over  the  coffin. 

Tl.  .  s  emotion  was  evident  when  she 

said,  "  Poor  child,  you   well   deserve   my  crown  of 
laurel 

The  1  I  ichess  de  Mouchy  then  conduct 
the  Queen  to  the  room  of  which  I  have  spoken. 
Prince  Napoleon  himself  presented  his  sons  to  her 
Majesty.  A  few  moments  later,  eleven  o'clock, 
the  Queen  and  Princess  Beatrice  left  the  house, 
crossing  by  a  pathway  of  Mack  carpet  to  the  stand 

cted  tor  the  Royal  Family.  At  the  same 
moment  the  Princess  Mathilde  and  Princess 
Eugdnie    pro<  1   to  the   little    Church   of  St. 

Mary,   where   the   funeral   ceremony    was   to   take 
pla<  I    remained     in     the     room,    looking    at, 

touching  the  treasures  which  were  all  that 
remained  of  our  beloved  Prince.  Meantime 
the  procession  was  forming  slowly  beneath  the 
window.  .  .  .  Of  this  1  need  not  speak,  as  every 
paper  of  the  day,  if  referred  to,  would  tell  tar 
better  and  more  accurately  what  took  place  than 
aid  in)-  memory.     I  knew  nothing,  saw  nothing, 


MY   MEMOIRS 

as  I  stood  transfixed,  gazing  vacantly  at  the 
thing  before  me — one  thought,  one  feeling  filled 
my  mind  and  heart :  Had  all  these  hundreds  of 
French  people  come  over  the  water  to  see  the 
sight  of  a  Napoleon,  a  son  of  France,  their  Prince 
Imperial  thus  carried  to  his  last  resting-place  !  A 
great  tribute  was  paid,  a  high  honour  intended, 
and  had  I  been  the  Empress  I  should  have  been, 
as  she  no  doubt  was,  deeply  touched  and  grate- 
ful :  but  if  she  had  had  one  drop  of  our  blood  in 
her  veins  no  English  flag  would  have  covered  his 
coffin,  no  English  princes  would  have  carried  him 
to  his  grave.  Years  after,  when  this  country 
cried  out  with  one  voice  that  they  would  have  an 
English  princess  for  their  future  Queen,  one  born 
and  bred  with  them — English  heart  and  soul — how 
well  I  understood  the  wish.  .  .  .  Marie  Louise 
and  the  Roi  de  Rome — Empress  Eugenie  and 
the  Prince  Imperial — what  a  lesson  for  genera- 
tions to  come ! 

I  plead  forgiveness,  oh  my  English  readers, 
if  ever  my  Memoirs  fall  into  your  hands. 
Remember  then  that  the  writer,  who  loved  her 
country,  loved  her  race  beyond  expression,  had 
for  nearly  thirty-two  years  been  wounded  every 
day  by  some  heathen,  who  purposely  or  ignorantly 
had  wantonly  crushed  her  heart,  crushed  her 
spirit,  hurt  her  pride,  abused  her  country,  stamped 
upon  her  race.  .  .  . 

Presently   I  woke   with   a   shudder — the  pro- 
334 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

cession  was  moving  Pietri   w  Hiding 

little   way   from    the    window    pointing    with    his 
arm-,  thrown  out  in  a  great  gesture  of  lir  to 

the  line  now  slowly  winding  thi  rounds. 

At  th  it  moment  the  door  opened  and  Mr.  Gard< 
walked  in.     S  it  had  been  my  pre  occupation 

that   1   had  never  noticed  that  he  had  not  taken 
his  place  in  the  funeral  pri         ion.      He  asked  it 
he  mi  'lit  order  the  carriage — he  wished  to  lea\ 
immediately.     It  was   neither  the  time  nor  place 
to  ask  any  questions  :  I  only  said,  "  1  cannot  leave 

re  the  Queen." 

As  soon  as  the  procession  had  left  the  grounds 
the  Qu  en  and  the  Princess  Beatrice  walk 
across  the  lawn  to  the  house.  The  Queen  sent 
lor  the  Puchess  de  Mouchy,  who  accompanied 
her  to  the  door  of  the  boudoir  up-stairs  where 
the  Empress  had  expressed  the  wish  to  see  her. 
The  room  was  dark,  as  when  I  had  seen  it.  1  he 
opening  of  the  dour  just  gave  sufficient  light  for 
the  Queen  to  see  the  Empress  standing  to  receive. 
She  threw  her  .inns  round  her  and  they  mingled 
their  tears  and  sobs  in  a  Ion-  embrace.  The 
Prince--,  Beatrice,  finding  herself  alone,  left  the 
drawing  room  and  went  with  me  to  the  Lluipcllc 
Mortuaire.  All  was  as  it  had  been  a\\  hour 
before.  The  candles  were  still  burning;  the  rose 
leaves — all  roses  from  France— still  covered  the 
floor:  flowers  were  thrown  here  and  there,  lilies 
mingling    their  sweet  scent   with   the  perfume  ol 


MY  MEMOIRS 

incense.  The  Princess  knelt  and  gathered  a  few 
flowers — a  handful  of  the  roses  on  which  the 
coffin  had  rested — all  that  remained  of  her  short 
poem  of  love. 

In  the  autumn,  about  the  second  week  of 
September,  I  was  advised  by  Dr.  Playfair  that  I 
needed  rest  and  quiet  and  he  suggested  either 
Braemar  or  Pitlochry.  We  were  very  fond  of 
salmon  fishing,  so  we  decided  for  Deeside.  The 
early  summer  must  have  been  a  very  rainy  one, 
as  on  my  return  home  to  prepare  for  my  Scotland 
trip  I  found  the  haymakers  still  in  the  fields  and 
spent  two  or  three  happy  days  with  the  children 
romping  in  the  hay.  I  left  for  Braemar  on  the 
1 8th  of  September,  with  two  or  three  friends — 
Mr.  Garden,  being  detained  for  a  few  days  on 
business  in  town,  promised  to  join  us  almost 
immediately.  We  travelled  by  the  night  express 
to  Aberdeen  and  stayed  one  day  and  night  there 
before  going  on  to  Ballater.  My  first  experience 
of  a  Scotch  train — stopping  so  often  and  going  at 
a  pace  that  my  American  trotters  of  old  days 
would  have  been  ashamed  of.  On  arriving  at 
Ballater,  we  found  a  carriage  and  post-horses 
waiting  for  us,  and  late  in  the  evening  we  reached 
the  Fife  Arms,  where  rooms  had  been  engaged. 

We  made  excursions  every  day  to  some  spot 
of  the  pretty  country  round  us.  Old  Mar  Lodge 
and  the  Quoich  were  among  our  favourite  resorts. 
336 


THE    PRINCE    IMPERIAL 

We  had  taken  luncheon  with  us  one  lovely  warm 
morning  and  intended  to  do  some  sketching  near 
the  Q  »ich,  when  w<-  were  disturbed  by  the  sight 
ol  the  Royal  carria  in  the  distan<  Being 
ac<  ustomed  to  the  strict  etiquette  of  the  Tuilerii 
1  hastily  gathered  together  all  my  belongings,  live 
and  dead  stock,  and  mad--  a  retreat.     Th  en 

often  drove  through  Braemar  during  my  stay. 

The  Empress  Eugdnie  was  daily  expected  at 
Abergeldie,  lent  to  her  by  the  Queen.  One 
Sunday  morning  I  saw  from  my  window  the 
Empress  and  her  suite  drive  past  to  the  little 
1  itholic  chapel  a  hundred  yards  from  the  hotel. 
Considering  it  my  duty,  1  went  to  the  chapel  and 
waited  outside  till  Mass  was  said  in  order  that  1 
might  present  my  respects  to  her  Majesty.  She 
was  most  gracious  and  talked  tome  tor  some  time, 
and  we  walked  hack  to  her  carriage  together.  I 
then  took  my  leave  of  her  and  stood  waiting  till 
she  had  driven  off.  How  often  in  my  life  I  have 
done  an  unwelcome,  irksome  thing  to  find  that  1 
was  unjustly  accused  and  wrongly  blamed!  So  it 
was  in  this  c.ise. 

I  remained  some  weeks  longer  at  Braemar,  and 
then  went  further  north.  On  returning  to  town 
1  announced  my  intention  ol  going  to  Chislehurst 
to  say  good-bye  to  the  Empress,  who  was  then 
about  to  undertake  her  voyage  to  Zululand  to 
•  the  spot  when-  the  poor  little  Prince  lost  his 
life.     She  replied  "that,  being  on  the  eve  ol  her 

v 


MY   MEMOIRS 

departure,  she  was  too  busy  to  see  me."  Knowing 
the  Empress,  I  was  not  the  least  surprised,  and 
should  have  thought  it  quite  ordinary  had  I  not  by 
the  morning's  post  received  a  letter  from  my  sister, 
who  was  staying  at  Camden  Place,  telling  me  that 
her  Majesty  was  greatly  annoyed  at  several  things 
I  had,  or  was  supposed  to  have,  done  during  my 
stay  at  Braemar.  I  puzzled  my  brain  in  vain  to 
discover  in  what  I  had  incurred  her  displeasure. 
From  that  day  to  this  I  have  held  myself  aloof — 
only  performing  such  obligations  as  my  position 
imposed  on  me.  Some  year  or  two  later,  when 
talking  of  different  things  to  my  uncle  Prince 
Lucien,  he  suddenly  asked  me  why  I  had  been  so 
foolish  at  Braemar?  I  asked  in  what.  He  was 
astonished  to  hear  that  I  was  absolutely  ignorant 
of  the  crimes  imputed  to  me.  To  be  true,  I  had 
never  even  taken  the  trouble  to  inquire.  The 
Emperor  and  the  Prince  both  gone,  I  more  or 
less,  alas!  English — what  could  it  matter?  I 
was  wrong.  Everything  matters,  if  not  for  oneself, 
for  others  dear  to  you.  Prince  Lucien  told  me 
my  offences — trivial  enough — but  here  they  are. 
In  my  haste  to  leave  the  Quoich  that  day  when 
sketching,  I  had  dropped  my  handkerchief.  It 
had  been  picked  up  by  one  of  the  Royal  party,  and 
the  story  which  reached  the  Empress  was  that  my 
handkerchief  bore  the  Royal  arms  of  Naples 
embroidered  in  the  corners.  If  it  had  been  true, 
would  it  have  caused  disagreement  between 
338 


Till-:    PRINC  E    IMPERIAL 

England    and     Italy         (     rtainly    I         French 

mblic  would  not  have  interfered.  My  h  indker- 
chief  had  a  sing]  >wn   i  The 

other   misdemeanour   was  that    I   had  1 
with  race  gla  bracketed  on  the  i  \  while 

her  s  were  being  changed  at  the  hotel.     The 

:en,  it  was  asserted,  had  caused  inquiries  to 
In-  made  as  to  who  ipied  the  ro<  >ms.  She  was 
informed  they  were  mine. 

The   moment   it   was  mentioned   to  me   I   re- 
membered hearing  of  the  incident  at  the  time,  for 
it  made  quite  a  sensation  in  the  hotel.     Tw 
maids,  who  had  probably  ne\  en   the   I 

had  stood,  not  in  any  room,  but  in  the  doorway 
of  the  hotel  and  annoyed  her  Majesty  by  staring 
at  her   through  eye-gl  The  Queen   called 

on<-    of   her    attendants    and    gave    some  ordei   . 
saying,  I  believe,  that  if  she  were  to  be  subjected 
to  such  impertinence  she-  should  in  future  chai 
hor  "-u  here. 

I  need  scarcely  say  that  I  attempted  no 
defem  We  all  who  lived  at  Court  knew  too 

well  that  a  pretext  is  easily  found  when  wan; 
Had  not  the  candidature  of  Prince  Le  pold  von 
Hohenzollern  to  the  throne  of  Spain  been  made 
the  transparent  pretext  for  the  Franco-German 
war  of  1870?  1  treated  the  imputation  cast  upon 
me  with  the  silent  contempt  I  felt. 

My  uncle  urged  me  to  write,  hut  1  refused, 
and,  taking  a  page  from  a  hook  of  greater  suffer- 

Y    2 


MY   MEMOIRS 

ings  than  mine,  I  withdrew,  like  the  snail,  into 
my  shell,  carrying  my  disgrace  with  me.  My 
mother,  who  was  always  very  lenient  towards  the 
failings  and  errors  of  those  around  her,  indulgent 
to  her  children,  and  more  especially  partial  to 
her  sons,  ventured  once  to  expostulate  with  the 
Empress  on  the  harshness  of  her  judgments  and 
the  severity  of  her  decisions.  Carried  away  by 
her  feelings,  the  Empress  answered,  "  Ah  !  ma 
cousine,  vous  etes  Louis  Seize — n'oubliez  pas  que 
je  suis  Louis  Ouatorze  !  "  In  these  few  words  we 
may  read  the  history  of  the  Second  Empire  and 
its  reverses. 


340 


INDEX 


•43. 
itesse  d', 

■  26 
Joseph  d', 
Aurevill 
Austria,!  ncis 

Joseph, 1 
Aiis'- 

beth,  Em] 
Azeglio,  M  . 

iochi,   Princess,    138,    158, 

Baker,  Sir  Samuel,  303 
240 
1,  1  >uke  de,  234,  52},  3:9 
hyani,  Mine.,  296 
Bar..  jo,  244 

line,  Marshal,  235-237 
rice,  l'i  ,33,  335 

Beaumont,  Countess  de,  79,  14'; 

Icett,  I  lamilton,  41 
Belliari     1         ral,  17 
lie:  -  leneral,  37- 

1 
-■Hi,  Mi  141 

'44 
Emperor  Napoleon. 
Napole 

harles.    Set 
( Charles  Bonap  u  te,  Prince 

I-  :  ■  te,  Pi 

See 
laparte,  I 


iparte,  Prin<  e  Pi<  1  re. 

. 
Roland 

ilonel,  2 

. 
Bow 

r- General,  239- 

240 

Eton,  Mme.  le,  271 
Burgoyne,  Sir  John,  206-207 

Cadore,  Marquise  de,  3: 
.  20 
1  1 
Count  de,  1  58-162 
pbell,  I  hibald,  302 

Mme.,  122    123 
ey,  Lieutenant,  320 

.  of  Naples,  16, 
2 1 

233-234 

"""9 
.  137 
iglione,   Virginia    de,    150- 
56 

(leneral  dc,  54,  57 
mr,  M.  de,  130,  151 

,  Maria, 
Charles  Bonaparte,  Prin 

siron,  Baron  de,  ■     91,  238 

Chevarier,  M.  de,  202 
(  larendon,  Lord,  1 

.,  Adolphe,  230, 

[de,  Pi 
tades,  Marquise 

. 

34i 


INDEX 


Courbonne,  Mile,  de,  60 
Cowley,  Lord,  128 
Craven,  Lady  Mary,  120 

Daudet,  Alphonse,  75 
Demidoff,  Prince,  72 
Desprez,  Mme.,  68 
Dumas,  Alexandre,  75 
Duperre,  Commandant,  142,208, 

230-231,  273 
Duvernois,  M.,  267 

Elizabeth,  Empress  of  Austria, 
278 

Enghien,  Due  d',  19,  22 

Eugenie,  Empress,  108,  110-116, 
118-119,  121-123,  131-140, 
154,  156-159,  m-172,  182- 
183,  185-186,  193,  196,  204- 
207,  220,  235-236,  245-247, 
261-265,  270-286,  292-293, 
296-301,  304-307,  309,  311- 
314,  322-335,  337-338,  34o 

Evans,  Dr.  Thomas,  206,  330 

Ferdinand,  Emperor  of  Austria, 

22-23 
Feuillet,  Octave,  75 
Fleury,  General,  3i3-3r4,  329~ 

33o,  333 
Fould,  Achille,  306,  308 
Francis    Joseph,    Emperor     of 

Austria,  119,  271 
Franco-Prussian    War,    183    et 

seq. 
Fraser,  Carolina  Georgina,  25 
Frome,  Charles  T.,  282 

Galliffet,  Marquis  de,  142-144 
,,        Marquise  de,  144-145 

Garden,  Mr.,  204,  213,  238,  248- 
251,  254-255,  259-261,  265, 
268,  279-282,  286-288,  292- 
293,  295,  298,  300,  304,  328, 
335-336 

Giraud,  M.,  67,  75 

Gladstone,  Mr.,  214,  246 

Goncourt,  Jules  de,  78 

Gramont,  Duke  de,  184-185 

342 


Granville,  Lord,  241-242 
Gull,  Sir  William,  265 

Haussmann,  Baron,  134 
Heine,  Mme.,  141-142 
Home,  Daniel,  273-275 
Hopkinson,  Charley,  29 
Howard,    Miss,    102-103,    151, 

211-212 
Hugo,  Victor,  75 

Imperial,    Prince.      See    Louis 

Napoleon,  Prince  Imperial 
Irving,  Washington,  27 

JeYome  Bonaparte,  Prince,  174, 
I91,  197-198,  218-219,  242- 
244 

Joachim  Murat,  King  of  Naples, 
15-23,  26 

Joseph,  King  of  Spain,  25 

Kemble,  Fanny,  44 

Latour-Maubourg,  Marquise  de, 

157 

Lennox,  Lady  George,  294 

Leopold  von  Hohenzollern, 
Prince,  216-217 

Lermina,  Mile.,  231 

Letissier,  Eliza,  162 

Liszt,  Abbe,  78,  147 

Louis  Napoleon,  Prince  Impe- 
rial, 121,  193,  195,  270-273, 
283-286,    293-297,     299-300, 

3H-334 
Lucien   Bonaparte,  Prince,   56, 
80,  94-95,  246,  276-277,  300- 
301,  311,317,  322,  339 

Macdonald,  General,  19 
MacMahon,  Marshal,  195-196 
Maillard,  Adolphe,  36 
Malakoff,  Duchess,  324 
Manchester,  Duchess  of,  151 
Manning,  Cardinal,  281 
Mary   Adelaide   of  Hohenlohe, 

Princess,  109 
Massa,  Marquis  de,  138 


INDEX 


ilde,    Prin 
.   151,    ■ 

■ 
Moray,  Duke  de,  1 1 

Mur.it, 

Mur.it. 
Mur 

vie 

Mur.it,      I'i 
birth     and     1  hildhood,     24  ; 
life     ;it      Point     ! 

umily  to 
rival   in    Paris, 
51  ;  nship  ot    Prin- 

Mathilde, 

with      Baron      de 
Chassiron, 
tions  of  the 

>n   Ill's   ni 
1  1 

I      art   entertainii!-  \    tt 

;  visit  to  Switzerland,  1 

the  Fran<  0- Prussian  War, 
ft  ht  from  I'  1 

tt  1         1    ile  in  England, 

ith  ni"  her  husband, 
a    Redisham, 
•  to  Italy,    251    -■ 
mania  ••   « ith    Mr.    1  i  11  len, 

■ 
illness  at    '■ 

Ill's 

th   of 

Mi  ned 


■ 

Ml: 
Mural 

Mi. 

■  it. 
• 
Nap 

Li  him      Murat,       k 
Naples 

Napoleon  111,  2 

185,    1 

■      ■ 

27.'. 
Napoleon,  Pi 

■ 

omtede, 
Nilsson,  Christine, 
011i\ 


Padua,  I 

.  1  1  ird,  1  jS 
\t.  hbishop  of,  1  j  1 
Paterson,  M 1 
Patti,  Adelina, 

1,  Sir  Robert,  1 
Pei 

Duke  de, 

Piedmont,  King  of,  127   1 2 


INDEX 


Pierre    Bonaparte,   Prince,    56, 

93-95.  275-277,  279 
Pierre,    Princess.      See   Ruffin, 

Justine 
Pietri,    Franceschini,    198,  231, 

270-271,  335 
Playfair,  Dr.,  336 
Point  Breeze,  29-30,  33,  36-37, 

42 
Poniatowska,  Princess,  221,  296 
Ponsonby,  Miss  Melita,  294 
Pourtalds,   Mme.   de,    79,   144- 

145 
Powell,  Captain,  239 

Rediny,  Baronne  de,  67 
Renan,  Ernest,  75 
Ridgeway,  Mrs.,  84 
Roland  Bonaparte,  Prince,  279 
Rothschild,  Mme.  Alphonse  de, 

153 

Rouher,  M.,  312,  315 
„        Mme.,  265-266 

Ruffin,  Justine  (afterwards  Prin- 
cess Pierre),  275-276 

Sainte-Beuve,  M.,  75 
Sardou,  Mme.,  77 
Scheffer,  Arry,  75 
Sesto,  Duke  de,  182 
Sheriff,  Gina,  288 
Sibour,  Archbishop,  157 
Sibthorpe,  Mrs.  Waldo,  310 
Sidney,  Lord,  322,  323 


Solms,  Mme.  de,  79-83 
Standish,  Henry,  294-295 
Stevens,  Edwin,  40-41 
Stewart,  Commodore,  39 
Stradbroke,  Lady,  289-290 
Strauss,  Johann,  78,  126-127 
Survillier,  Count  de,  30,  33 

Tascher  de  la  Pagerie,  Comtesse 
Stephanie,  154-155,  232 

Thompson,  Sir  Henry,  261-262 

Trafford,  Tommy,  239 

Trochu,  General,  197-198,  205, 
214 

Turenne,  Comte  de,  329 

Vanderbilt,  Billy,  39 

Victor  Emmanuel,  King  of  Italy, 

68 
Victor  Napoleon,  Prince,  188 
Victoria,   Queen,  80,   118,  312, 

337,  339 
Viel-Castel,  Count  Horace  de, 
76-77 

Waleski,  Comte,  109 
Wasa,  Princess  de,  109 
Washington,  George,  26 
Waterloo,  19 
Waveney,  Lord,  289 
William  III  of  Holland,  85 
Willis,  Catherine  Bird,  26 

Zembo,  M.,  161,  163 


Richard  Clay  6^  Sons,  Limited,  London  and  Bungay. 


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